


The Alpha Mates

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Stiles, Bamf Lydia & Malia & Allison, Banshee Lydia Martin, Bartender Danny Mahealani, Blood and Violence, Different Pack Dynamics, F/F, F/M, Former Hunteress Allison, Hybrid!Stiles, M/M, Malia is not a Hale, Mention of The Stilinski Family, Mentions of Originals, Past Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is a Mikaelson, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Vampire-Werewolf!Stiles, Werecoyote Malia, Witch!Allison, Witchcraft, alpha!Derek, werewolf! Jackson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Stiles is a vampire/werewolf Hybrid. He was changed after his pack was massacred. Due to this he grew up different, creating a pack and finding a family in people who aren't his blood.Until a man claiming to know him and his dead pack, comes looking for help.or...The Sterek version of Hayley/Jackson's story line from The Orginals series.





	1. If We Don't Rise, We Fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Right so, I was watching Orginals', more specifically Hayley and Jackson's story and I thought about Sterek and how I could see them going through something like this... only they would react and deal with it differently.

Around 23 years ago, a screaming baby boy was born on a full moon into the Luna Pack. A pack that started centuries before his time, a pack that he soon would have to lead. His mother, the female Alpha at the time had made plans for her little boy, plans that would seal his fate and protect his soul if ever she were to leave too soon. The boy’s father, a man of honor and integrity, was never known to smile or show any affection but the moment, the pack doctor placed the screaming boy into his arms, the man turned to look at his exhausted wife and lets out a laugh so loud, his pack member from outside could almost feel his joy within themselves.

And they knew, from that very moment that the little wolf would be the change they have been waiting for.

“What will we name him?” Whispers Claudia as she watches her husband hold their son.

Noah, without taking his eyes off his son replies, “Mikolaj.”

Claudia lets out a soft chuckles. “Are you preparing our little boy to be a solider already, Noah?”

“No,” He whispers, as his little boy opens up his eyes for the first, his dark brown orbs meeting his father’s pale blue ones. “No, he is Mikolaj… He is Our Victor."

Everyone was happy for their future Alpha was born but their happiness was short lived.

Tragedy strikes one cold night. Hidden in the shadows, a predator seeking prey, finds the Luna Pack. The man wastes no time, racing across the entire land with supernatural speed, sinking his teeth into every living member of the pack.

Claudia awakes from the sound of her people screaming but it is all too. On instinct and that alone, she runs towards her son’s room. Sweeping the screaming boy into her arms, she takes off, pressing his face into her neck, hushing him as she runs.

Her pack lay decimated at her feet but she keeps running.

She runs and runs until she hears it, the small whimper from her mate. She stops, turning and looking around and then she finds him, laying on the floor with someone over him, feasting on his neck.

“No!” She screams.

The thing pulls away from husband’s neck, his eyes glowering an unnatural yellow. Not the yellow of a wolf but of something else entirely. The growl that leaves her throat, causes her son to tense in her arms.

Slowly Claudia lowers him onto the ground, her eyes fixed on the beast before her.

“Mama?” Her son whispers.

“Run, Mikolaj. Do not look back, baby boy. Run.”

The moment his feet hits the ground, Mikolaj runs as his mother commanded.

He doesn’t look back, he ignores the feeling of lose that falls upon him with each step that he takes.

He runs, ignoring the screams of his mother that echoes through the entire forest.

He runs faster, when he hears the loud thudding of footsteps following him. Followed by another and another and another. He wants to cry but Mikolaj doesn’t. He needs to be strong, like his Papa and Mama.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a man appears in front of him. Then another one behind him. The man’s clothes before him is torn and bloody and Mikolaj can smell the blood of his mother and the blood of his father.

A growl rips through the boy’s throat as he bares his teeth, his eyes glowing bright yellow before he lungs to the man. The man steps out of the way, letting out a mockery laugh as Mikolaj falls on the ground.

“Oh, the little Alpha Pup wants to play.” He mocks.

Mikolaj turns around, growling before trying to grab the man once more only to be met with the same fate, this time the man grabs his shirt and all but throws him towards another man.

The second man hums with pleasure as he buries his face in Mikolaj’s neck. “Hmm, he is going to be a lovely feast for the guys back home.”

“Oh, do tell me you two aren’t foolish enough to believe you have a home to return to.”

Everyone tenses at the new voice.

A man steps out the shadows, a smirk on his lips and blood coating his mouth and chin.

“Klaus.” The man holding Mikolaj whispers.

“Surprise to see me, Adam?”

Mikolaj looks at everyone, his brown eyes wide with fear as he takes in the strange new man. He squirms, turning his head to get out of the hold.

“Why would they have expected you at all, Niklaus?” Someone from behind them says.

In a fit of panic, Mikolaj bits down on the forearm of the man that holds him, ignoring the disgusting taste of blood that pours down his throat, holding the bite until the man releases him, tossing him away.

Mikolaj flies through the air, and the little boy shuts him eyes just as his side come into contact with the thick, hard trunk of a tree. He hears something crack inside him and the little boy lets out a painful cry, this time letting the tears fall down his face. He cries, trying to gasp for breathe, trying to breath but nothing. He gasps, clawing at his chest as if to tear it open, desperate for anything that would help him breathe.

He distantly hears a fight happening far away but as his lungs fail to take in oxygen, his vision starts to blur. The world around him becomes hazy and there is a constant buzz in his ears that makes it difficult to hear much of anything.

“Niklaus!”

Is the last thing the boy hears before he dies…

 

\------

 

“How could you! He is just a little boy!”

“Well then, dear sister, maybe you should ask Elijah instead of screaming my ears off. Seeing as it was our noble brother who requested I turn him.”

“Oh, you selfish bastard! You dare turn a little boy all because your ego was wounded due to Marcel’s choosing to leave this horrid excuse of a family!”

Mikolaj whimpers at all the screaming.

“This horrid excuse of a family that—”

“Enough, the both you. The boy is waking.”

There is silence after the calm voice speaks and Mikolaj sighs. He turns around, burrowing deep into the blankets and burying his nose into it, seeking his mother’s scent but instead, he is met with a fowl one.

Eyes flashing open, Mikolaj sits up with a start on the bed. His eyes glow yellow as the little boy stares, locking eyes with the three people surrounding him. Suddenly his stomach turns painfully and an overwhelming wave of hunger strikes him.

Mikolaj growls, bending over and grabbing onto his stomach.

“Klaus. Feed him.”

Hands grab his shoulder and Mikolaj fights as a man forces his bleeding wrist over his mouth. Mikolaj fights, wanting to move his head but the rich scent is alluring and soon, as if giving into an instinct, he opens his mouth and sucks. He drinks down the thick liquid, groaning as the warm blood sates his hunger.

“There you go, Little Wolf.” The man, Klaus, says.

_Little wolf._

Mikolaj rips his mouth away from the wrist, shoving the man's chest as he jumps off the bed. He looks around, scenting the air for his mother.

“Whoa there, Little Wolf. It’s quite all right, we won’t hurt you.” The woman with blonde hair says as she walks over to him with her palms up. “Now I’m sure you must be very scared. My name is Rebekah—”

“Where is my mom? And my dad?” Mikolaj interrupts her.

The woman, Rebekah, swallows as she looks at him. She glances behind her and Mikolaji follows her eyes, watching as the two men look away too.

Mikolaj recognizes the look. He has seen his parents give the look to pack member who have lost someone to death.

“No.” Mikolaj says to Rebekah. “No, I want to see my mom and dad now.”

Rebekah turns to the little boy who stands before her with an angry look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Little Wolf. But your mom and dad… They didn’t make it.”

“No!”

An overwhelming wave of anger washes over Mikolaj and he growls and lungs at the woman. He hears a swishing sound and something wrap around his waist, pulling him away.

“No! Let me go! Let me go! I want my mom! I want my dad! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

 

 

Learning that he had lost his family and his entire pack took a toll on Little Mikolaj. The people here, Elijah, Rebekah and Klaus, who Mikolaj had found out where vampires… Originals for that matter, helped him through the grief.

Klaus offers him a means of distraction.

Rebekah offers comfort and a shoulder to cry on.

Elijah offers words of wisdom and an ear.

“So, what is your name, Little Wolf?” Rebekah asks two weeks after Mikolaj had woken up for the first time in this place.

“Mik-Mikolaj.” The little boy forces out.

They have been calling him Little Wolf since he had arrived here.

Rebekah lets out a laugh. “Well, with a name like that, you must be very important. But a little boy like you should not have such a proper and powerful name.”

Mikolaj turns and frowns at her.

“I think,” She goes on to say, “We should give you a nickname, you know like the one we have for Klaus. What do you think, Elijah?”

Elijah turns from where he is standing by the balcony of Mikolaj’s room. “I think, that is a fantastic idea.”

“Hmm.” Rebekah turns to grin at the little werewolf.

“How about Kol?” Klaus says as he enters the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“We are not naming Our Little Wolf after our backstabbing, bloodthirsty brother, Nik!”

“Stiles.” The little boy whispers.

All the Originals turns to him.

Mikolaj turns to Rebekah as he explains, “My dad’s father was in a war once and he went by the name Stilinski. The people there… They called him Stiles.”

“Stiles, you say?” Klaus asks with a smirk.

And since then, No longer was he referred to as The Little Wolf or Mikolaj …

Since then, he has been known as Stiles, The Werewolf Hybrid in the Mikaelson family.


	2. Past Meets Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets someone from his past.

“Stiles! I can’t find the milk!”

The man sighs from where is standing over the stove. He feels a smile already forming as he turns around to regard the redhead as she bends over the fridge.

“Lydia, my love, did you put it away this morning?”            

Lydia, a spunky redhead that amuses Stiles to no end, spins around, her hands falling on her hips and her green eyes narrow.

“I didn’t use the damn milk this morning. _Malia_!”

Letting out a snort and a laugh, Stiles turns back to the food he’s preparing, leaving Lydia and Malia to deal with one another. He has learned long ago to never get in the way between two stubborn females. Especially when those two females have a kink for always being right and never admitting defeat.

“I can go buy more milk, if you’d like?”           

He glances over to the dimpling angel at the door of the kitchen. Her dark hair is pulled back into a pony tail and in her hand are a pair of dirty gardening gloves.

“No, let them fight. They haven’t yet today. Better to get it out of the way now than later tonight when we are all trying to sleep.”

Allison shakes her head and smiles. She moves further into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

“Did you at least find what you need for that spell?” Stiles asks as he finishes off chopping the carrots, throwing them into the pot.

“Yeah, but it needs a little growing.”

“You excited?”                                                                                        

Stiles looks over to her, letting her know he is paying attention to her as she goes off into explaining how long she has been waiting. The preparations she had to do to perfect the spell. Stiles has heard all this before, but Allison’s father wasn’t as welcoming about the idea of his daughter practicing witchcraft and as much as all the girls love one another, they each have their own interests.

“Stiles!” Malia shouts, bursting into the kitchen, panting. “Me and Lyd’s are going to go buy the milk for the cookies! We’ll be right back.”

“It’s Lydia and I.” The redhead corrects as she appears behind Malia.

Stiles sighs and nods. “Fine. Just please for the love of God, don’t get into fight,” He gives Malia a pointed look. “And drive safely.” He turns his eyes on Lydia.

The girls roll their eyes.

“You coming, Ally?” Malia asks with a grin.

Allison shakes her head. “No, I’ll help Stiles with the dinner.”

Not needing to be told twice, the girls rush out the door.

“Lydia, can I drive?”

“No.”

“Why? You always get to drive…”

 _Those girls,_ Stiles thinks as he shakes his head.

After Allison puts away her gardening tools, she returns and together they start their own tradition. While Stiles has a connection with each girl, he and Allison connect through the simple act of cooking together.

Years ago, while he lived in New Orleans, Stiles never would have thought that he would find something like what he had with the Mikaelson’s. A family, that loved him and that he loved too.

Klaus thought he was a fool for letting the three girls in but Rebekah and Elijah had supported him, even going so far as to help him find a piece of land that he could call his own. Being a Hybrid and one that The Originals considered family made him a target and that, Stiles thinks, is the only reason Klaus allowed him to leave.

“Hey, you okay?”

Allison’s voice pulls him from his thought. Clearing his throat, Stiles turns and smiles at her. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?” Allison sounds out, her lips pulling into a small ‘o’.

Smirking, Stiles replies. “My family. Back in New Orleans.”

He gets the reaction from her that he expected. She falls silent and they both resume their work, not exchanging anymore words.

Lydia and Malia would have jumped at the chance to ask Stiles about The Originals, but not Allison. Given her history as a Huntress turned Witch, she thinks it’s best she doesn’t know much of anything about the Vampires who raised Stiles, just so that world she has left behind can’t use her against him.

It’s why he loves her so much; her caring nature and her ability to put others before her and to protect the people she cares about. She was the Huntress who turned against her kind to help save an innocent Hybrid from the hands of her Grandfather.

She was the first one to join Stiles pseudo-pack.

Next followed Lydia.

A Banshee who had predicted the death of her entire family. She came to Stiles, following the rumors of a haunted man who lived in the woods with a girl he holds captive that does magic for him whenever he so pleases.

Lydia, using nothing but her brilliant mind, followed every small information until she found him but she had been too late.

The moment she arrived, her mouth opened and she released a piercing scream.

With no one else to turn to, Stiles offered her a place with him.

Malia was the last girl to join. A small girl stuck in the form of a coyote. After presumably killing her whole family, she came to the one Alpha that was near.

Stiles.

“Hey! We’re back! And,” Lydia appears with a grin on her red painted lips. “We bought ice-cream.”

“Oh god,” Stiles groans, looking from Lydia to Malia. “No wonder you’re snarkier than usual.”

Lydia frowns, glaring at Stiles as she moves to put the ice-cream away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stiles.”

“I think he knows that you are PMS-ing, Lydia.” Malia says

A round of laughter breaks out from Allison and Stiles at Malia’s blunt tone. Stiles moves closer to the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss on her forehead.

“Never change, love.” He says, ignoring her confused look.

Soon, the table is set and they all take a seat. Malia wastes no time to dig in while Allison and Lydia have better table manners. Stiles takes small bites, not being able to help the small smile the forms on his face as he watches the girls interact. They’re smiling and laughing, sounds that Stiles has missed without realizing it until the girls entered his life.

It reminds him off the old time, when it was him and his family. His wolf family.

The Mikaelson’s aren’t aware, though Stiles is sure they suspect it, but Stiles has never forgotten his pack. He had only been seven when they were taken from him but he remembers everything. From the sound of his father’s voice to the smell of his mother’s sweet honey scent.

When he had been old enough, he had asked Klaus if he would paint his mother and father, taking whatever memories Stiles had but the Vampire had declined, saying it was best Stiles left the past where it belonged.

“Hey Stiles, can you pass me the---”

Stiles head snaps over to Malia who had spoken but stopped.

“Malia?” Stiles asks, looking at the girl as her eyes turn from its dark brown shade to an icy blue hue.

“Someone’s here.” She states.

Her chair scrapes against the floors as she leaps away from the dinner table and makes a break towards the door.

“Malia!” Stiles shouts, jumping up as he runs after her with Lydia and Allison following close behind them.

Malia running towards the door, rips open the door but comes to a stop right outside. Stiles stops next to her, wrapping his hands around her shoulder to try and calm her.

“Malia, it’s okay.”

She growls, her teeth extracting from her gums as she whips her head around, her eyes moving over the entire land.

“Malia, listen to me. There is nothing out there. Okay, Allison’s barrier holds. Nobody is coming—”

Then he smells it.

The rich, musky scent of another Alpha. His head snaps over to the forest, his iris’ glowing yellow as veins form around it.  Stiles scents the air, smelling the delicious flavor of blood reaching his nose and salivates his mouth.

“Malia, take Lydia.” Stiles orders. “Allison, put a barrier around you.”

With that Stiles takes off. He runs through the trees, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he follows the scent. It gets stronger and stronger the further he gets away from his home. He growls, finding the scent of many werewolves, blended in with the Alpha’s making it clear the Alpha had a pack.

He hears an animalistic growl and then a whimper.

Stiles slows down, as he gets closer. He sees a figure limping closer towards him.

It’s a man.

Bloodied, with a torn clothes, the man continues to stumble blindly thought the woods, muttering, “I have to find him... I’m close to him... I have to find him.... Mikolaj... Mikolaj.... Have to find him…”

Stiles freezes.

_Mikolaj…_

Letting out a deep throaty howl, Stiles lungs across the small distance between him and the Alpha, grabbing onto his shirt and hauls him through the air and down onto his back.

The Alpha growls, his nails extracting from its beds, his face contorting and forming in a way Stiles has never seen.

The Alpha’s nail scratches down the side of his face and the man sinks his claws into Stiles’ sides.

Stiles howls in pain, pulling his fist back and slamming it against the man’s face, forcing him to pull his claws out.

Stiles jumps away, just as the Alpha raises his other arm to make a swipe at him.

“Who are you?” Stiles growls.

The Alpha stops then, he literally freezes from his position on the floor.

Not appreciating the stalling, Stiles moves closer, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulls the man up and closer to his face, letting his eyes glow.  
  
“Do not make me ask again.”

The man’s green eyes widen in shock as they stare at Stiles. “It’s you.”

Stiles tenses up.

The man as if delusional, starts running his eyes over every inch of Stiles’ face, letting out a small breathe as his lips tug up into a smile.

“It’s you, Mikolaj... It’s you.”

The man raises his hand up to Stiles’ face but Stiles’ grabs it, twisting it until he hears the bone crunching sound and only twists it further when the Alpha lets out a scream.

“How do you know my name?”

“Mikolaj, I found you.” The man continues to say, his breathing becoming erratic. His chest heaving up and down but he continues. “I have found... It’s you... I finally found you.”

Before Stiles could ask once more, the man’s eyes rolls back and his head lolls to the side.

He stays there, staring at the unconscious man before looking up and around the clearing, tracking every inch for any movement.

When he finds the coast clear, he stands up, lifting the man up. He ducks under his body, feeling the man’s stomach meet his shoulders and Stiles lifts him up, grunting at the heavy weight.

With a sigh, he turns around and makes his way back home, anger and awareness coursing through his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memeber's of Stiles' Pack:
> 
> \- Allison Argent  
> \- Lydia Martin  
> \- Malia Tate
> 
> \- Elijah Mikaelson  
> -Klaus Mikaelson  
> -Rebekah Mikaelson
> 
> (Though the Mikaelson's are vampires, Stiles does consider them family... Therefore he considers them as part of his pack.)
> 
> *


	3. The Truth

Stiles sits there on his seat beside his bed. Allison is running around, setting herbs in every corner in Stiles’ room to mask the Alpha’s scent.

“With this, no one will be able to scent him.” She says, looking over her shoulder from her crouched position. “We’re safe for a while.”

Stiles nods just as his bedroom door opens and Malia enters.

“I checked everywhere, aside from a few dead hunters, he seems to have come alone.”

“Hunters?” Allison asks. “What are hunters doing here?”

Malia shrugs. “I don’t know. But they’re not from here. That much I can tell. Him too,” She nods towards the man.

“Which begs the question,” Lydia speaks up from the other side of the bed. “Why is he here, Stiles?”

Stiles swallows as he looks away from the man and towards Lydia. Just as he’s about to answer, the man on his bed lets out a groan, his bare chest rising before his eyes flash open, his iris’ glowing a blood red color and he lets out a loud howl.

Lydia jumps back just as Stiles jumps forward onto the man as he starts to thrash around in the bed. He growls and howls, turning his head to the side his furrows pulling together.

“What’s wrong with him?” Lydia asks, moving with Malia as the other girl grabs her arm and pulls her away from the man.

“I don’t know!” Stiles grunts as the man’s fights against his hold.

Allison comes rushing forward, her hands out in front of her. She mutters a few words, closing her eyes. Seconds later, she opens them and rushes out of the room.

“Allison!” Stiles shouts after her.

The other Alpha as if recognizing his voice stops and turns to look at him. His hands flash up, grabbing onto Stiles’ face. His red eyes widen as they lock onto Stiles’.

“Mikolaj.” He breathes out.

Allison comes bursting through the door once more with a small bag in her hand. “Stiles, hold him down.”

The moment Allison speaks, the other Alpha growls and becomes erratic once more. He lets go of Stiles’ face, ready to slash at Allison but Stiles’ grabs his wrists, crossing his arm forcefully over his chest, folding them and holding him down. Allison makes quick work, rushing over to the other side of the bed, pouring what looks like black powder into her open palm. She mutters an incantation and the sparks erupt from the powder. Stiles, trusting Allison, turns to look at the withering Alpha just as Allison stuffs the powder into the open puncture wound on his side that appears to be an arrow wound.

Allison closes her eyes and raises her hands, palms down and towards Stiles and the Alpha. She mutters under her breath, the words spill from her mouth in a hushed tone. Suddenly the Alpha arches up and lets loose a roar so powerful, the lights on the ceiling and the glass on the bedside table from this morning, vibrates.

Then he’s quietens down, his body slumps down onto the bed.

Stiles sighs and turns to Allison. “What did you just do?”

Allison slowly lowers her hands and turns to Stiles. “I uh- I read somewhere in that book that Lydia has been trying to translate that by burning Wolfsbane of a particular species of plant, you can use it as a cure for the wound it created.”

“Smart.” Lydia compliments.

“Then what’s with the magic?” Malia asks.

Allison shrugs, moving towards the chair Lydia had sat on. “There was too many wounds. I had to get the powder through his system before he died.”

Stiles looks up and away from the Alpha towards Allison and smiles. “You did well, Ally.”

She gives him a shy dimpled smiles.

Its hours later before the werewolf in Stiles’ bed, and not in the sexy way, shows signs of waking up.

Stiles has been by his side since the moment the Alpha passed out, not trusting the werewolf. He’d prefer if the fight ended immediately should the Alpha try to attack his pack as suppose him harming his pack only to inevitably die in the end anyway.

“Mikolaj.” The man whispers, his voice thick and hoarse.

Lydia looks over at Stiles with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to talk about him knowing your birth name?”

Stiles ignores her in favour of focusing on the Alpha, watching and waiting to ensure there is no attack. The man groans, his thick brows twitching and he slowly comes to.

Hazel eyes blink open and flicker over everyone, Lydia, Malia and Allison, until they land on Stiles. The man stares at him, before letting out a sigh and then sinks back into the pillow.

Malia tilts her head and frowns. “Is it just me or is he not reacting the way a hostage should be?”

“It’s not just you.” Lydia and Allison reply in unison.

“Girls.” Stiles says, sharply glancing at them.

The Alpha groans again as he sits up in bed. “I’m not a hostage.” He says softly as he locks eyes with Stiles once more.

Stiles, getting sick of the guy eyeing him, straightens up his posture and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re a hostage until I say otherwise.”

The Alpha frowns at him. “Mikolaj, what---”

“It’s Stiles. And I’m the one that’s going to be asking the questions here. Starting with, who the hell are you?”

The man scoff and rolls his eyes. “My name is Derek. I’m the Alpha of the Hale pack.”

He says it like it’s supposed to mean something, looking intensely at Stiles with his green hazel eye.

“Okay,” Stiles says, moving closer to the end of the bed. “ _Alpha of the Hale Pack_. Would you care to share why you are trespassing on my land and how you know my birth name?”

Stiles waits for an answer but Derek just stares at him.

“You really don’t know who I am?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at the man for a second before turning to the girls. “Ladies, would you please give us the room?”

The girls turn to glance at one another before meeting Stiles’ eye. He raises his eyebrows and nods towards the door. After a second’s hesitation and one last glance towards Derek, they all slowly file out.

Once they are all out of the room, Stiles regards Derek once more.

“Now that we are alone, let’s start again. How do you know my birth name?”

Derek moves off the bed, grunting as he pushes himself off the mattress. “Our parents knew each other.”

That gets Stiles’ attention. His arms fall limply to his sides as he stares at Derek.

“And a long time back, before you were born and I was 4, they made a deal.”

Stiles growls, narrowing his eyes at Derek. “What kind of deal?”

Derek slowly limps towards Stiles’ window before he turns and leans back against it, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Our Packs, the Luna Pack and the Hale Pack, wanted an alliance. Our packs came from different bloodlines and with that bloodlines came different abilities. So to unify those different traits, our parents decided to unify our bloodline, through us.”

“Are you trying to tell me, that my parents sold me off?” Stiles asks in a low tone, taking a step closer to Derek.

The veins below his eyes appear and Derek swallows thickly at the sight of them.

“No. This sort of alliances has been going on for centuries. It’s the kind of alliances that can only happen between the offspring’s of Royal Blood. Like you and me.”

Licking his lips and biting down on the flesh, Stiles glances away to try and process the new information.

“Mikolaj, I had no idea you didn’t know about the alliance. If I did, I wouldn’t have come looking for you—”

“You said ‘alliances between Royal Blood’ and forgive me if I am mistaken but doesn’t an alliance like that occur through marriage?”

Derek falls silent.

And that’s all the answers Stiles need.

In an act of anger, Stiles grabs the nearest thing, which just so happens to be a vase with flowers in them, and hurls it at the wall, inches from Derek’s hunched form. It isn’t long and in mere seconds the bedroom door bursts open and Malia comes in hissing at Derek through her fangs.

“Malia! Stand down!” Stiles shouts, raising a hand towards her.

She stops, turning to look at Stiles. Her blue eyes runs over him, checking to see if he is injured.

“We heard a noise.” Lydia says, coming in after Malia with Allison right behind her, eyes fixed on Derek.

“Yes, I am aware. And I apologize for startling you but I threw a vase.”

The girls turn to look at the broken vase by Derek’s feet.

“Well, whatever the hell you threw, we are not leaving this room.” Allison says, moving in further.

Stiles nods to her, knowing that both girls will back her up, given how protective they are of him.

“Now what made you so angry, you had to break a very expensive vase?” Lydia asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she moves closer to Stiles.

“Derek here was just explaining to me how our parents, in their archaic minds, decided me and Derek would be fit to unite our packs bloodlines.” Stiles sneers.

“We had our parts to play, Mikolaj. Just as everyone in _your pack_ and _mine_ had a part.” Derek shouts, grunting in pain from the action.

“Unite? Meaning, what exactly?” Malia asks, moving to stand next to Stiles as she turns to face Derek.

Derek swallows. “Stiles was supposed to be my husband.”


	4. The Decision

Stiles shoves open the front door, not caring when the door breaks off from its hinges, slamming sloppily against the outside wall, hanging limply. Without much thought, he reaches in his pockets and pulls out his cell, dialing the one number of the one person he knows will help.

“Stiles.” The English man greets.

“Hey, Elijah.” Stiles forces out, trying to sound casual while trying to slow his pounding heart down.

“Stiles, what is wrong?” Elijah asks in that slow manner that makes it clear he knows something is wrong and he expects Stiles to tell him.

“Nothing, a brother can’t call just see how it is with the family back home?”

“Yes, well my dear brother you can but normally you wait for the sun to have risen and not sunk before making that call.”

“Fine, so maybe I am calling because I need some words of wisdom.”

Elijah lets out a chuckle. “I thought as much. You, much like Klaus, enjoy beating around the bush it seems.”

“No, Niklaus enjoys it because he finds joy in aggravating you and ‘Bekah.”

“Stiles, as much as I commend you for trying to deflect off the topic, please ask what you need assistance in.”

“Yeah, so to give you a short version. An Alpha werewolf came stumbling to my neck of the woods, claiming he was supposed to be my husband because our parents married me off while I was a fetus.”

There is a pause.

“Do you believe him?”

Stiles sighs, moving towards the railing of the wooden porch and leans against it. “He called me Mikolaj.”

“Maybe he has heard of the pack you were born into. You do come from a very well-known bloodline, Stiles. It would not be surprising that this man knows your birth name.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t believe him?”

“No, I am merely stating things you already know but just needed to hear from someone other than yourself.”

He lets out a scoff and rolls his eyes. “To be honest, I am not sure what I know anymore. I have always wondered about the people I came from, you know that. This could be my chance to finally find out more about them but at the same time, it seems too good to be true.”

“You’re starting to sound like, Klaus. Not everything has two sides, Stiles.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to be vigilant.”

“You’re being paranoid, not vigilant.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Niklaus would be proud.”

“Yes, well there aren’t many things that makes my brother proud, other than the demise he leaves in his wake.”

Stiles frowns. “Is there trouble?”

“With our Family, there always is.”

He straightens up at that. “Do you need assistance?”

“No, you stay put Stiles. It’s best the people here do not know about you.”

“Elijah—”

“That was not a request, Stiles. You have problems of your own and should tend to them. We will be fine here.”

Gritting his teeth, Stiles forces out, “Fine. But I am calling Klaus and Rebekah later about this.”

“They would appreciate hearing from you.”

Stiles shakes his head. “Please be safe out there.”

“We will call you as soon as this… problem has been resolved. So long, I recommend you hear what this Alpha has to say. It can’t hurt to have a little faith.”

“I thought Faith was a call for Death.”

“Yes, well to Niklaus maybe. But you have always been more trustful than our dear brother. And your trust in people has never failed you.”

A small smile forms on Stiles lips. “Be safe, Elijah.”

He gets no reply but he didn’t expect on. He hangs up and moves back into the small house. His body feels more relaxed and his heart has calmed down.

Moving into his bedroom, Stiles ignores the glares the girls are sending Derek and the one Derek is giving him.

“You said you’re from Beacon Hill, correct?”

Derek shifts a little from where he has not moved against the window. “Yes. It’s in California.”

Stiles narrows his eyes. “California? You have traveled a long way…”

“Yeah, well I was desperate.” Derek growls, his eyes flickering from red to green.

Malia lets out a growl of her own at Derek.

“Hmm, desperate for what exactly?”

It’s then that a sad look passes across Derek’s once stony features. “A year ago, a hunter came into our territory and burned my family alive. A few of us survived, my sisters and my mother. But… in a fit of rage, I killed the person responsible and unknowingly started a war. My pack and I aren’t strong enough, we don’t have the power to defeat these people.”

Stiles looks over to the girls, each wearing a sympathetic expression aside for Malia. She is glaring at Derek, her nose twitching just a bit, clearly trying to see if the man is lying. When she meets his eyes, she nods.

“Okay,” Stiles says, returning his gaze to Derek. “So why come to me? What’s make you think I can help?”

“I don’t think, I _know_. That’s why our parent’s made the arrangement, to protect both our packs.”

Stiles narrows his eye in confusion, opening his mouth to speak but gets cut off by Lydia.

“How exactly does that help your pack? Beside the increase in number of werewolves? And why was it _you two_ that were meant to be together and not one of your sisters? I mean no disrespect but a union such as marriage between two men seems a little counterproductive if the goal was to increase the numbers in a pack.”

Derek shakes his head, looking at Stiles only has he speaks. “How much do you know of werewolf’s customs?”

“Well considering, my pack was murdered when I was seven and I am no longer a pure werewolf, I could say my source for that knowledge was a little scarce.”

Derek frowns and shifts slightly. “Wait, what do mean you’re no longer a pure werewolf?”

Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, glancing at the girls to see if they approved of him sharing the secret. When they nod, Stiles looks at Derek and answers. “I am what you call a Hybrid. Half Vampire-Half Wolf. I was turned when I was seven.”

Derek’s eyes wide and Stiles watches with a small hint of fascination as almost every muscle in Derek’s body tenses up.

“You’re a what?”

“A hybrid. I am sure you have heard of them.”

“That explains it then…” Derek whispers almost to himself before he looks up at Stiles. “That explains why I’ve felt like I’d lost you for most my life but at the same time I knew you were there!”

“How could you have felt Stiles?” Allison asks, taking a small step forward.

“It’s a werewolf thing. We experience the loss of another pack member on a physical and emotion level.” Derek answers, somewhat distractedly.

“Which brings us back once more as to why you think I can help?” Stiles reminds him.

Derek looks up at Stiles. “When two Alpha’s get married, the power of each Alpha and the traits their bloodlines had, becomes one and that power gets transferred on to every pack member in their respective packs. That’s why I need your help. With the traits your family, your bloodline, mine could stand a chance at winning this war.”

“You want Stiles to marry you?” Lydia shrieks, taking a menacing step forward. “There is no way in hell that is happening!”

“Look, if there was another way, I would take it but there isn’t. I’ve looked everywhere!”

“Then look harder!” Lydia shouts back.

“Lydia!” Stiles shouts, “That’s enough.”

“No, Stiles! We are not letting you do this!”

Stiles glares at her. “Lydia, I said that’s enough,” he says calmly.

The girls all turn to glare at Stiles, their eyes daring him to agree to this.

“It’s not going to be a real, romantic marriage.” Derek’s voice breaks the silence.

“Marriage and romance, kinda goes hand in hand.” Allison says.

“Not always,” Derek says causing Stiles to turn to look at him. “This marriage is nothing but an alliance. An alliance that could be beneficial to both our packs.”

“How will it be beneficial to us?”

Its then that Derek’s eyes lock with Stiles’ in an intense stare. “I save my pack… And you finally get to have one.”

Derek and Stiles continues to hold eye contact and Stiles can see, behind the strong Alpha exterior lays a desperate man, who is trying to save his family. A man who has been ready to risk his life by traveling miles away from home to find the one last hope he has left.

Stiles.

Letting out a sigh, Stiles nod. “Okay.”

“Stiles!” The girls shout.

He gives them a soft, comforting to look before looking back at Derek. “I will agree to this but only after, I meet your pack. I need to meet the people I might be making an alliance with and I need to know that my pack will be accepted too. If they accept all four of us, then I shall think about it. Do we have a deal?”

The sigh Derek lets out causes his whole body to slump. “Yeah,” He says with a small smile. “Yeah, we have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone know how I can add homemade gifs to the stories? I tried but it didn't want to add.


	5. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mikaelson Pack meets the Hale Pack

They have been driving for days, driving away from the outskirts of New Orleans to California is not something Stiles wishes to experience again. The girls have been following Stiles’ jeep in their own car, leaving Stiles and Derek alone, with nothing much to say to one another.

There is soft music playing in the background, something Derek had picked and that Stiles allows, given that the Alpha is still in unknown territories.

“So, tell me about you’re pack? You said you guys were growing?” Stiles asks.

Derek turns to look at him from the passenger seat and clears his throat before answering, “Uh, yeah. It was just me, my two sisters and mom but then… I ran into kids who needed, I don’t know, a foundation I guess, and I gave them the bite.”

“Wait? You gave them the bite? As in you have the ability to turn others into werewolves?”

Derek frowns. “Yeah. All Alpha’s can do it.”

_Interesting…_

“Okay, and what else?”

“Uh, I guess, I kinda of made my own pack. Which consists of a way too naïve kid that sees the good in everyone. An arrogant kid who thinks he has something to prove but really is just trying to fit desperately into a place he wishes to call home. Then there is a couple I turned. The girl is feisty and strong, kinda reminds me of Lydia a bit and the guy is silent but resilient.”

Stiles gives Derek a side-ways glance and smirks. “Am I supposed to ignore the way you didn’t mention their names?”

A small laugh escapes from him. “Yeah, sorry. Force of habit.”

“Understandable. I would do anything to protect the people closest to me, a trait I seem to share with you.”

Derek smiles at him, “Yeah. I guess.”

Silence falls between them and Stiles’ lets it. Soon they pass the sign that says ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’. With the directions Derek gives him, Stiles continues to drive through the town, toward the woods.

When they get there, Stiles slows down.

“Where to?”

Swallowing, Derek turns to look at Stiles. “We are going to have to walk from here.”

“Excuse me?”

“We can’t drive there. The area is very isolated. We found it and made our home there with the sole purpose that cars can’t get there and that if people were to find it, we would have scented them out long before they could attack.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Stiles shuts off the Jeep and hops out. He hears the other car doors opening as he moves towards the back of his Jeep to pull out his bag.

“What’s going on? Why did we stop?” Lydia asks as she and the girls make their way over to Stiles.

Pulling out the duffel bag and not bothering to hide his frustration, Stiles growls out, “It seems Derek forgot to mention we couldn’t get to his little humble abode without car. We have to walk there.”

“Oh, how convenient.” Malia comments.

Stiles nods, as he tosses the strap over his shoulder, shutting and locking the Jeep. He turns to see Malia, Allison and Lydia pulling their bags out the trunk of Lydia’s car before shutting it and making their way over to Stiles.

He runs his eyes over every inch of the woods. He ignores Derek who is standing next to him in favor of scenting the air, trying to match its scent with the scent that he associates with Derek. It’s there, a faint musk that would have been undetectable if Stiles didn’t know what he had been looking for.

“Okay, we can go now.” Derek says, looking with apologetic eyes toward Stiles.

The Hybrid ignores him and sweeps his arm out, indicating for Derek to lead the way. They follow after the Alpha, the girls walking behind him with Allison behind him and Malia behind everyone.

It’s a formation the girls created when entering unknown lands.

It has been effective thus far, and as much as Derek seems to have nothing but good intentions, Stiles is not about to let his guard down around the Alpha.

They walk for miles in silence before they hear a low growl.

Derek stops, his body bending forward in a fighting stance as he lets out a growl of his own.

Stiles narrows his eyes as he looks around the surrounding area. Something yellow flickers in the corner of his right eye just as It jump out of nowhere, aiming for Derek. Stiles growls and on instinct jumps, grabbing the thing, his fingers gripping onto its clothes, and tosses it across the forest and away from Derek.

He can feel his eyes flicker to yellow and his teeth elongating from his gums as he lets out a low growl.

“Damn, Derek. Where did you find him?” A voice says.

Stiles’ head snaps up, just as figure jumps from a tree, landing right in front of Derek. His blue eyes lock with Stiles and he gives him an exaggerated smirk before he returns them to Derek. There is a snap of a twig and at Malia’s low hiss, Stiles turns around to see another dark skinned man making his way over to them.

“Damn, you’re got fast reflexes.” A woman says.

A blonde woman walks over to them, coming from the direction where Stiles had tossed the attacker, making it pretty obvious who the person was that attacked them.

“Jackson, Erica. What did I say about playing around with people you don’t know?” Derek asks, in a calm voice.

Hearing the familiarity in his tone, Stiles slowly straightens up, pulling his canines back and turning his eyes back to brown. He looks over to Malia and nods to her, watching as she shifts back but remains in her defensive stance as she eyes the other man.

“I smelt you so I knew who you were.” The blonde, Erica, says with a predator grin as she makes her way closer to Derek.

He turns just in time to catch her in his arms as she wraps her arms and legs around him in a hug. The small sigh Derek lets out, makes Stiles’ gut turn but he ignores it in favor of eyeing the pack member’s as they all make their way to Derek, each of them pulling him into a tight hug.

“Is this him?” Erica asks, her eye landing on Stiles. They are a deep brown color, wide and wild.

Derek turns to smile at Stiles before turning back to Erica. “Yeah. Sorry, uh, guys this is Allison, Lydia and Malia. And of course you already know—”

“Mikolaj.” Jackson interrupts, eyeing Stiles up and down.

“It’s Stiles.” Stiles corrects, glaring at Jackson.

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Jackson asks, his lips tugging into that smirk that tempts Stiles into sinking his claws into his neck.

“A Stiles is the thing that’s tempted to kill you this very moment, unless you starting showing some respect.” Stiles lets his eyes flicker yellow, letting the veins slowly form around his eyes.

Jackson’s eyes widen and he instinctively takes a step back and away from Stiles. Derek glances over his shoulder, clearing pressing his lips together to hide a smile.

“I like him, Derek.” Erica says with a grin before turning to the girls. “And you guys… I feel like we are gonna get along great.”

“Yes, but first we need to get to the house. I think it’s best if we get Stiles there now before everyone else starts showing up individually.”

And with that they move, Derek leading the way with the silent man and Jackson flanking him and Erica staying behind to walk next to Stiles. She keeps glancing over to him, and then over her shoulders to the girls before glancing back at him.

“If you have something on your mind, darling, feel free to ask.” Stiles says, not even glancing at her.

“Sorry it’s just… I can’t believe you are really here.” She gives him a wide grin.

Stiles turns to look at her, taking in the grin that strips away the tough girl act and makes her look sweet, almost innocent.

“Is that so?” He asks.

She nods. “Yeah, also, cool name by the way. We’ve kinda been calling you Mik for short but Stiles is way better.”

“And how long have you known about me?”

He can feel Allison moving towards his side, Lydia and Malia coming closer to stand almost right behind him.

“Oh since I joined. Everyone knew about you the moment we turned. Derek got teased a lot because of his dedication to you and I think it’s super cool that you guys are—”

“Erica.” Derek cuts her off.

She stops and turns to look over to her Alpha who shakes his head. With a sigh, she moves away from Stiles but not before flashing him a smile and then makes her way over to the only silent member of the pack.

Stiles glances over to Allison and nods to her for her to keep an eye out. Lydia moves to stand next to Stiles, and Malia follows on her other side. Silently, the two packs make their way further into the woods, coming across a stream. They continue walking, getting away from, what Stiles can only assume, the main water source for the Hale Pack.

They soon arrive at a clearing, a large house near the banks of a lake that is probably linked to the stream they had passed before. Stiles tightens the hold on his bag, moving to stand a few inches in front of the girls, feeling his muscles tense as the scent of different werewolves becomes stronger.

The wooden house is large, large enough to hold a big family. The wooden planks aren’t painted, allowing it to blend with nature and the forestry background. The porch is wide, taking up the whole front length of the house and the land before the house looks like the perfect playground for a pack of wolves.

The front door opens and a woman steps out, followed by two more. They all stand there, waiting and watching as Stiles’ pack and Derek’s move closer to them.

The oldest of the three, which Stiles assumes is Derek’s mother, given the dark hair and the slightly darker toned skin, moves forward, walking down the porch steps and closer to them until she meets them half away.

Derek moves forward and allows his mother to pull him into a hug. They hold the embrace for a while before Derek pulls back, giving his mother a small smile.

Stiles feels a small longing in him as he watches their interaction, remembering the feeling of a motherly embrace and the comfort he once found in it.

“Mikolaj.” The woman greets with a smile as she moves closer. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Talia Hale.”

Stiles moves closer, bowing slightly to her before straightening up, locking eye with her. “It’s an honor to meet you Alpha Hale.”

Talia narrows her dark eyes at him. “You are very respectful to someone who you know is no longer the Alpha.”

Stiles nods. “Yes, but I’ve been told that an Alpha is just a status and no matter who that status gets passed on to… Once an Alpha, always an Alpha.”

“You’re parents taught you well.” She compliments.

“It wasn’t my parents who taught me that.”

His answer seems to shock her but she hurriedly schools her features.

“Very well, we have much to discuss. Please,” She says, gesturing for Stiles to follow as she turns around and makes her way into the house.

Turning to look at the girls, waiting until they all nod, he follows after the former Alpha.

Entering the house, Stiles can tell much time has been taken to decorate the interior. Pictures hang on the walls. There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling in what looks to be the seating area. There are two couches with an armchair between them, all circled around one large fire place. To the left side, connecting to the sitting room, is a stair case. Stiles follows Talia as she makes her way to the dining area, to the left side of the mansion, where a long table stands.

It’s wide and open with windows in the middle wall, bringing in streams of light from the outside, giving Stiles a view of the outside trees and land. There is a small open doorway on the left side of the three walled room, and as Stiles steps a little further in, he can see the shiny steel of sinks. The kitchen.

On the right, there is a closed door and Stiles wonders where it leads to.

Pulling up a seat at the head, Talia gestures for Stiles to take a seat next to her. “Please.”

Not saying anything, Stiles takes off his duffel back, places it on the ground next to him and then takes a seat, the girls wait until Talia gestures for them to do the same before following.

Derek and his pack take a seat. The Alpha takes a seat opposite Stiles and the others sit alongside him. The two woman and another unfamiliar man with a crooked jaw enter, taking a seat on Derek’s side of the table.

Stiles eyes them, noting the way the two woman are looking at Derek but also the way the new comer locks eyes with Allison before looking away with a small blush.

“Well, before we start, shall we make introductions?” Talia asks.

Stiles nods, taking that has his queue. “My name is Stiles, although you all seem to know me by my birth name, Mikolaj. This is my pack, Malia Tate, Lydia Martin and Allison Argent.”

At the mention of Allison, the entire Hale Pack tenses up.

Derek sneers, his face contorting and shifting before he lets out a growl. His beta’s follow, all locking eyes on Allison along with the other two woman.

“Woah!” Stiles shouts, jumping up and letting his Hybrid form out. He backs away, the girls all stand up and follow him too.

Malia hisses, her face changing, eyes turning blue as she glares at the other pack.

“You didn’t tell me she was an Argent!” Derek growls.

Stiles turns to glare at him. “Well you never asked. So I suggest you put the fangs away and explain to me why you are all growling at a member of my pack!”

Derek, as if forcing his will, turns to glare at Stiles. “The Hunter that killed my family… her name was Kate Argent.”

Stiles looks over to Allison, watching as her hands that had been previously curled, ready to strike, drops. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widens.

“What?” She whispers.

“That changes nothing!” Stiles shouts when the Hale Pack all growl towards Allison when she spoke. “I am sorry for your lost, I truly am but what happened between you and the Argent's does not fall on Allison! She walked away from that family a long time ago. Now I suggest you put the claws and teeth away or I swear, you’re heads will be rolling before you even think of laying a finger on her!”

The Hale Pack pauses slightly. Stiles turns his glare toward Derek, his eyes expressing the seriousness behind his words. No matter the alliance, no one is attacking Stiles’ pack, allies or not.

“All right, everyone calm down.”

Talia’s calm and collected voice breaks the thick tension in the room. Everyone turns to regard the former Alpha before slowly easing back, their faces returning to its human form. Stiles glares at every single member of the Hale Pack, until they were all back to their previous form before he turns to nod towards Malia.

She lets out one last growl before transforming too.

“Stiles, would you and your pack please, take a seat—“

“No.” Stiles cuts Talia off. “I apologize for being disrespectful but I’m not sitting down until I have your word that no harm will come to Allison.”

Talia narrows her eyes art Stiles.

“Tell me, Stiles, how long have you been in this pack?”

“Why?”

She gives him a small, yet confident smile. “You have admirable traits for an Alpha. The passion with which you protect your pack tells me you have been their Alpha for a while.”

“I’m not their Alpha.” Stiles says strongly. “I wasn’t raised by wolf customs. Therefore I am not their Alpha. The girls are neither above me nor below me. I see them as my equals, just as they see me.”

“Wait, you’re not their Alpha?” Erica asks, the shock clearly in her voice.

Stiles shakes his head, turning to the girls. “No.”

“Stiles is more like the big brother we never had.” Lydia interjects with a grin. “A stuck up one but a good one none the less.”

“And what about when you are in battle, who takes charge?” The boy with the crooked jaw asks.

“I’m sorry but who are you?” Stiles asks.

“Oh, uhm. I’m Scott McCall. Sorry, I guess I didn’t introduce myself when I entered.”

Talia speaks up. “Exactly. So how about we resume to introductions before we ask Stiles and his pack questions. Derek, if you will.”

Derek who has been sitting stiffly in his seat, blinks for a second before he clears his throat.

“Of course. Stiles, Lydia, Malia… Allison. These are the members of the Hale pack.” He says, and Stiles doesn’t miss the way he paused before mentioning Allison’s name. “You have already met Erica Reyes, Jackson Whittmore and Vernon Boyd, whom we all call Boyd. The women on the far side is Laura, my eldest sister, Cora, my youngest sister and then, Scott McCall.”

 _Boyd_ , Stiles thinks, finally being able to give the silent man, who has been with them since they entered the Hale land, a name. He glances towards Derek’s sisters, seeing the resemblance the two women have with their mother. While Laura share traits with both Derek and their mother, the eyes from Derek and the hair and skin tone from their mother, Cora seems to resemble only her mother. The dark hair right down to the dark eyes.

“All right, now that introductions are out of the way… How about we resume our discussion. Stiles, if you would please take a seat.” Talia says gesturing to the seats once more.

Stiles turns to glare at her. “You still haven’t given me your word that no harm will come to Allison.”

Talia nods. “You have my word, Allison will be safe.”

Stiles holds eye contact, rehashing Talia’s wording to look for any kind of loop hole that she might have but when he finds none he takes a seat, the girls doing the same, however slowly and hesitantly.

“Wonderful.” She says in a diplomatic tone. “Now Stiles, has Derek filled you in on our predicament?”

Stiles nods. “Yes, he has informed me about the war between your pack and the hunters here. He has also told me about the arranged marriage between me and him.”

“And I am sure you have questions.”

Stiles narrows his eye at every member of the Hale Pack before he lays his eyes on The Banshee. “Lydia.” He nods towards Talia.

Lydia’s lips quirk up just a bit in gratitude and they both ignore the expressions of shock and awe from the other pack.

She clears her throat, leans forward to place her folded hands on the table before she addresses Talia. “Derek didn’t tell us much about the wedding, mostly just that it was a way in which to unity different bloodlines to create new and stronger werewolves, correct?”

Talia nods.

“Okay, well I’d like to know exactly how this union would work, given that both Stiles and Derek are males.”

“Well,” Talia starts. “The union would occur during the wedding. Stiles and Derek would of course have to go through trials first, to solidify their bond, then at the wedding, every pack member will come to inherit the traits of both our bloodlines.”

Lydia nods. “And what exactly would these trials that you mentions before be?”

“Well, as werewolf customs go, when two Alpha’s unite with a bond like this, they would be, in every sense of the word, married. Meaning there can be no secrets, there has to be trust and most importantly, there has to be loyalty. Not only to one another but to every werewolf that gets brought into the pack.”

“And how exactly would that happen?”

“Well, they would go through a fasting, purification and other trials… It will all be safe and straight forward, so that both Stiles and Derek will know what is going on.”

Lydia glances over at Stiles. “And what about Stiles? And our pack?”

“You all will go through trials, not similar ones, to see how you all interact with one another but essentially both Stiles and Derek will become your Alpha’s.”

“I am not their Alpha.” Stiles interjects, “I’ve told you all that already. This pack does not work the way yours does. Malia, Allison and Lydia, all have a say and a mind of their own. They do not follow and they sure as hell don’t take orders from me.”

Talia looks over at Derek, who nods, before locking eyes with Stiles. “I am aware and we will all work on that. You’re pack has to be made accustomed to werewolf way’s.”

Lydia clears her throat, drawing all attention to her. “It is fair that you should know, none of us are werewolves besides Stiles.”

The entire Hale Pack leans back, all looking at one another.

“And what exactly are you?” Talia asks, her back straightened and her eyes intensely locked on Lydia.

“My pack consists of a were-coyote, a banshee and a witch.” Stiles tells them firmly, daring any one of them to say something.

“What?!” Derek asks, his eyes widening. “You didn’t think this was something to tell me?”

“We all have our secrets and I am not about to endanger my pack, by telling an unknown Alpha our dirty little secrets, now am I?” Stiles sneers.

Talia raises a hand, silencing whatever Derek is about say, as she looks at Stiles. “I can assure you Stiles, whatever your pack consists of will be kept well hidden.”

“I don’t really want you’re assurance. I want to know for myself if I can trust you all.” Stiles tells her. “But seeing as the cat is out of the bag… Allison is the witch in my pack, Malia is the were-coyote and Lydia is our banshee.”

The Former Alpha eyes Lydia with interest. “I haven’t heard of a banshee in a long time.”

“Yeah, well it skipped a few generations.” Lydia says, jerking her chin up in a proud manner. “My Grandmother is the last reported Banshee that I know of.”

“And the ex-hunter turned witch…” Another member of the Hale Pack speaks. Stiles looks over to see it is the youngest Hale, Cora, “How did you manage that?”

The sweet look vanishes from Allison’s expression as she hardens her eyes at Cora. “My hunter family didn’t really pay close attention to their bloodlines. I found out about the magic within me and as you can imagine my family was not very supportive.”

Malia speaks up, “I don’t remember my childhood, so don’t bother asking questions.”

Erica, Jackson and Boyd all turn to look at Malia. Though Stiles does not know them personally, he can see a flash of recognition pass on each of their faces. Erica scoots closer to Boyd and Jackson clenches his jaw before looking away from Malia and over to Lydia.

Stiles narrows his eyes when he sees The Banshee’s eyes flicker once or twice over to Jackson before she completely looks away.

“Stiles…” Talia brings his attention back to her. “I understand this is all very overwhelming for you. I knew your parents and I met you when you were born… Actually both Derek and I were there for your birth… Anyway, I know what is it like to lose your pack but believe me when I say, you didn’t lose your entire pack. You have and will always be considered a member of the Hale Pack. It has been that way since your birth and it will continues to be that way.”

A small lump forms in his throat and Stiles forces it down with a thick swallow.

He looks over everyone. From Talia on one end to Scott on the other. To the untrained eye, they look like a rag tag group of people… something Stiles and his pack can relate to.

Letting out a sigh, Stiles turns to regard Talia. “I will take everything you have told me into consideration and then discuss it with my pack.”

Talia looks to Derek once more before nodding with a smile. “Take all the time you need.”

 

**_ \------------------------------- _ **

 

“No! We are not doing it.”

Stiles sighs from where he is sitting on his chair, straddling the seat and resting his folded arms on the back. They are all gathered in a small room Derek has offered. They all waited until The Hales were out of hearing range before they started discussing the offer.

“Lydia… We need to think this through.”

She snorts, continuing to pace in front of him. “Oh, I thought it through and I am telling you, NO!”

“Why?” Malia asks from where she and Allison are sitting on the floor against the wall.

“Because! These people give a good presentation, I’ll give them that, but we do not know anything about them!”

“We know they’re at war with Hunters.” Malia answers with a shrug.

“Yes!” Lydia exclaims. “ _They_ are at war! We aren’t. Why are we getting dragged into this? We were safe and nobody paid us any mind… I mean, aside from the town’s people who all think we’re Stiles’ wives.”

Stiles smirks at that.

“We can’t _not_ help them, Lydia.” Allison speaks up.

“Why not?” Lydia asks as she stops pacing to turn around and glare at Allison.

The Witch sighs sadly, causing Stiles to sit up straighter and frown over at her.

“Ally?” He asks.

Allison swallow before she looks over to Lydia, her soft eyes hardening just a bit. “I was them once. People were trying to kill me and if it wasn’t for Stiles’ I might be dead. They deserve the help, Lydia.”

“Why?” She asks again, crossing her arms over her chest.

With that small action, Stiles turns to her, giving her a tiny sympathetic smile. “Lydia… I know you’re scared.” The Banshee’s eyes flicker over to Stiles for a moment as he continues, “You don’t trust them but… It’s not like I’m agreeing to this immediately. Talia said we would be around the pack more, to see how we all interact with them and then when the time is right… Derek and I will get married.”

“Stiles… This is your _life_.” Lydia emphasizes.

“I know, love. But these people can finally give you the big family you guys always wanted. People who understand us and will protect us. I know you three have been missing it… The Hale Pack seem like good people and they deserve our help. They didn’t ask for this war.”

“Derek killed someone, Stiles.” Allison says, looking over to him.

Stiles shrugged. “So have I… And I did it all to save the people closest to me. Should I be punished for it?”

The girls all look away at the question.

“Exactly. Derek did what he had to do. I understand where he is coming from which is why I know he wouldn’t have come to us for help if he didn’t really need it.”

Silence falls over them as they all think over everything that has been said. Stiles looks at them, waiting patiently while Malia, Allison and Lydia exchange glances with one another before they all turn to look at Stiles.

He sighs, looking at them. “So we’re in an agreement?”

Hesitantly, the girls all nod.


	6. Outside Looking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fragments of Stiles' past are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for this chapter please be open minded and remember this is fanfiction. I know some explanations sounds bullshit but it's mine so accept that. :)
> 
> Enjoy Chapter 6 of Alpha Mates

“This place is actually really beautiful.” Allison comments as she looks around her.

They are all sitting in a sort of meadow, the grass and the plants are all luscious and green, a true depiction of nature. The tall trees seems to encompass the entire meadow, as if hiding it from the outside world. The grass is not too long and the various plants seems to be have been monitored given they too are at an average level.

Sitting in a small circle with his pack, Stiles looks at his girls. Allison is slowly eyeing and most likely cataloguing every plant around her. Lydia is pulling out strands of grass before she weaves them into Malia’s hair, who is sitting in front of her perfectly still.

He misses this.

It has been a week since they met the Hale family and since then, neither of them have had time to be together like this. The Hale Pack has been incorporating themselves into his pack, not that Stiles had not been expecting that but it still unnerves him when he sees them talking with either Lydia, Malia or Allison.

“Oh.”

Stiles looks over to see Allison sitting crossed leg with a hand slightly raises, her pointer finger stretched out. A butterfly lands on the tip of her finger, its beautiful orange, black and yellow swirled wings flutter for a bit.

A wide dimpled smile spreads across her face.

Malia and Lydia look at the butterfly with small smiles on their lips, watching and following as the insect flutters its wings and then takes off.

Stiles leans back onto his hands. “So… how do you three like it here?”

Lydia shrugs. “It’s okay. Much better than I was expecting it to be, which is a bonus for them.”

Allison and Malia nod in agreement.

“And the Hale Pack… What are your thoughts on them?”

“They’re weird.” Malia answers. “They have this weird thing were they always go to Derek or Talia to get approval or double check if something is okay. And even though they have different personalities, they all seem to want Derek’s approval. I can tell when he walks into the room.”

Stiles nods to her. “They all have different backgrounds. And they have a very different dynamic than we do.”

“Yeah but why is it they all seem so shocked when they find out we don’t go to you for everything? Doesn’t that say something about the way Derek and Talia run their pack?” Malia asks, turning to face Stiles’ when Lydia pats her back to indicate she is done with her hair.

“I have been told that when you’re an Alpha, you’re responsible for the whole pack. The other’s going to Derek or Talia for assurance or a second opinion, just helps makes the job easier for the Alpha.” Lydia explains. “I read somewhere that when you’re surrounded by other werewolves, you have this constant need to try and prove yourself, not only to your Alpha but to the other Beta’s too.”

“And given that the Hales lost their family, I am not surprised they are extra cautious.” Allison adds.

Stiles nods in agreement.

“So you are okay with us remaining here for a little while longer?” Stiles asks. “You do not feel uncomfortable?”

The girls shakes their head.

“Okay,” He sighs. “So what can you tell me about the members?”

Lydia speaks up first. “They all have different personalities and I have seen it clash a lot. Like Jackson and Erica usually clash because they both have something to prove. Normally Jackson wants to take charge in a situation, but Erica usually fights him on it.”

“Yeah, I saw that too.” Malia nods.

“Uh,” Allison says, bringing their attention to her. “The ones that are mostly more laid back are Boyd and Scott. Scott kind of acts like a mediator when things get heated between others and Boyd is a voice of reason in the pack, that much is clear.”

“And the Hales?” Stiles asks.

“They’re struggling.” Malia says, causing everyone to frown at her.

“Why would you say that?” Allison asks.

“It’s clear. They don’t show it when they’re around everyone but I know… I can almost feel their pain. Derek and his sisters are usually calm and collected but every now and then I see them, holding hands or being physically affectionate with one another. Talia Hale slipped out on Monday and Thursday night and she returned exactly three hours later.”

Malia hesitates for a minute, looking down with her brows pulled together.

“What is it, ‘Lia?” Lydia asks.

“I uh, I hear whimpering sometimes at night. I don’t know who it’s from but…”

Sensing that she is clearly distressed, Stiles reaches out and takes her hand. Lydia does the same on her other side and Allison takes hold of both Stiles and Lydia’s hand. A calm, peaceful feeling runs through Stiles from Allison’s hand. Lydia and Malia’s once tense body slowly loosen, their shoulders relax only a bit but it is enough to know their bond is taking affect.

Allison closes her eyes, muttering incantations under her breath, her face relax and serene, void of any and all stress that the conversation might have brought upon.

It has been a while since their pack had the chance to re-establish their bond, a spell Allison placed upon them, around two years after all four of them became a true pack. Their bond as a pack, however emotional, is not tethered to their supernatural sides.

A witch needs the strength from which they would have necessarily gotten from a coven.

A were-coyote and a werewolf hybrid needs the connection of a pack.

A banshee needs to have some spiritual connection to other supernatural entities.

So Allison made a spell that linked them all together in spiritual level… A form of linkage for their supernatural sides.

Stiles feels his wolf stir within him and he feels Malia’s hand tighten around his. A small breeze passes through them, blowing around them slowly and perfectly, from Allison to Stiles, to Malia, to Lydia, to Allison.

He hears something in the distance, he feels the presence of another.

Allison mutters softly, her voice quietening before she stops chanting all together. Lydia and Malia open their eyes and frown over to Stiles.

“What was it?”

Stiles shakes his head. “We’re not alone anymore.”

Malia looks around, her chin up on the air. Her left nostril twitches as she scents the air. “It’s Derek.”

And sure enough the Alpha of the Hale pack steps out from the shadows of the trees on their far left side. He looks at them, his expression guarded as he makes his way closer. Lydia and Allison watch him, their eyes narrowed.

“He hasn’t been standing there long.” Malia tells them.

Stiles takes in Derek’s appearance, his black sweater shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dark jeans with random rips and tears in them, though Stiles can tell by the uneven rips and the jagged ends it didn’t come that way.

“Hi.” Derek greets, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

The girls nod at him, Allison even smiles. She has been trying to ease Derek into a something resembling acquaintanceship.

“Did you need something, Derek?” Lydia asks, arching her left eye brow mockingly.

He ignores her look in favor of looking at them all. “Yeah, I was wondering, if Stiles wasn’t busy, if he could join me for my patrol?”

“Join you?” Stiles repeats.

Derek focuses his eyes on him. “Mom thinks it would help if you knew the land. That way you can know where to go and you can feel safer when you and your pack feel like exploring.”

“And why can’t we join you and Stiles on this… walk?” Lydia questions him.

The corner of Stiles’ lip tugs up just a bit when he glances over to Lydia. He can tell Derek is unsure of how to be around her when she questions him left and right. He respects her, that much Stiles can tell but as an Alpha he knows respect towards another pack comes a long way and if he said anything that would be insulting towards Lydia, it would jeopardize the small alliance they have installed.

Only problem with Derek is, Stiles suspects, he has no idea what offends Lydia and _that_ unnerves his Alpha instincts the most.

Derek looks over to Lydia. “The others actually want you three to join them. They’re having a small training session and they are excited to have you watch or join in.”

Malia perks up at that. “Training as in fighting?”

Allison and Lydia roll their eyes and look over to her.

“What?” She asks. “I need to know. Once you two told me you were going on a mission and took me to the mall.”

Derek has a small smile playing on his lips as he looks at Malia. “Yes, Malia. There will be fighting. I think Erica and Cora are hoping you’ll join so they can one up the guys in numbers, for once. ”

The girls exchange glances. Malia cocks her head to the side, with a pleading look in her eyes. Allison raises her eye brows, her lips quirked into a challenging grin as Lydia narrows her eyes at both girls.

Lydia sighs, closing her eyes. “Fine.”

A wide childlike grin spreads across Malia’s face as she looks at Derek. “Where are they?”

“You will find them. They’re near the Hale House. Just follow the pungent odor of sweat. And don’t worry, Stiles and I will be far enough that Malia can still hear him.”

“Great.” Lydia mutters as she stands up, brushing the grass off her jeans.

Allison raises gracefully as always. She turns to look down at Stiles, her eyes questioning.

“Go. Kick their asses for me.” Stiles says to the girls.

He stands up too, not bothering to brush the dirty and grass off his jeans. He looks past Derek, watching as Lydia hooks her arms in with Malia and Allison. Malia points to the far side of the forest and Lydia nods as they make their way towards that direction.

He waits, until they are completely out of sight before he turns to Derek, who has been standing there silently, waiting for him.

“A patrol?” He questions.

Derek looks at him for a second, the tips of his ear turning just a bit red. “I figured if I said for a walk, you and the girls might read into it.”

Stiles raises his eye brows, walking past Derek. The Alpha turns around with him, holding eye contact with Stiles as he does so.

“A stroll in the woods. Sounds like the introductions to every bad horror film I ever watched.”

Derek huffs out a small laugh. They walk in silence and Stiles takes in everything around him, familiarizes himself with the path they are taking, listening when Derek points to a certain tree where there is a distinct engraving in it. When Stiles focuses on it he sees it’s a small shape, with three swirls coming out from one center.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the Triskelion. The Hale Family crest.”

Stiles nods. “Is this your family’s way of marking your territory?”

Derek frowns over at him for a second, looking confused before a look of realization crosses over his face. His dark eye brows smooths out and he shakes his head slightly.

Stiles stops walking and raises his eye brows at him.

“Sorry,” Derek apologizes. “I just forget sometimes that you didn’t grow up with werewolf customs.”

Stiles’ eyes flicker over his face, taking note of the sincerity in his eyes. He nods and then takes the two steps to stand alongside Derek once again. The leaves and twigs crunch under his heavy steps. He steps over a thick tree root, notices that although the path is clear, nature is roaming freely here. There is no man-made structures that influences its growth.

Derek clears his throat. “To answer your question, yes. All werewolves pack do it. It’s a claim on the land. Every tree surrounding the Hale Territory has this mark. It’s so other packs can know, although they would sense it when they enter, but it’s so they can see the claim from a mile away other than having to walk in and know you entered someone else's land.”

Stiles nods. It makes sense. It’s more a common courtesy than egotism. He thinks of Derek’s explanation and frowns. “Wait… _Every_ tree?”

Derek chuckles deeply. “Yeah, our ancestors has a lot of time on their hands. But,” He looks out in from of him, his eyes gleaming with a small hint of pride in them as he looks around the woods. “The land was much smaller in the beginning so there weren’t that many tree’s to mark and our pack was not that big. Then as our influence and numbers grew, so did our claim and with each expansion, more trees were marked.”

“How big is your claim?”

“Big. We use to need three groups to go on a proper patrol some nights and even that wasn’t enough.”

As he talked about the past, a sad looks passes over his stony features. Stiles has noticed Derek, much like every Hale Pack Member, have their small private moments. They will be laughing one moment, and then slowly their smiles will fade, as if a memory has passed, and they will stare off into the distance.

“What about you? How do you keep claim on your land?” Derek asks.

They make a small turn, heading east. Faintly, Stiles hears running, lapping water, so he suspects they are close to the river. Derek runs his hand over every tree trunks they pass, looking around as he does so.

Scent marking, Stiles thinks.

“Allison.” Stiles answers, looking at Derek when the Alpha pauses briefly at the name. “She has a protective barrier around our land. It doesn’t stop anyone from coming in, obviously,” He gestures to Derek. “But it does alert us if any enemies are near.”

Derek looks over at them, a small smile playing on his lips.

“What?” Stiles asks.

He feels weary whenever Derek bares a fond expression when looking at him. Stiles has seen it, from the corner of his eyes in passing moments for the past week since they have been here. He knows Derek knew him as a child, that Derek thinks he knows a lot about him and Stiles fears that the image Derek has conjured in after all these years will cause him nothing but disappointment.

“Nothing.” Derek shakes his head. “My patrol is almost done.” He informs Stiles. “I was planning on taking you to a cabin we have. It’s near the river.”

“That doesn’t sound like a come on at all.” Stiles quips. “I hate to break to you but I’m not that easy.”

Derek rolls his eyes and glares at him.

The change brings a small rush through Stiles. That glare feels like a glimpse to the real Derek, not this polite Alpha, he is trying to play.

“I just want to talk. I know nothing about you and if the alliance does work, and we do end up married, I am hoping we could be friends by that time, rather than acquaintances.”

Stiles stares at him as they walk. Derek holds eye contact, never blinking. When Stiles nod, Derek looks away and Stiles silently follows the Alpha. He draws back his senses a little, focusing on three distinct heart beats. They are beating fast and steady. He hears their laughter rippling through the woods and feels the bond that binds them remain calm.

Derek doesn’t say much as they hike their way through the woods. The hike reminds Stiles of the forest back in New Orleans, where Elijah use to take him, to help him control his powers, to control his new and amplified senses. Klaus is always the strong hand on his shoulder and though Stiles knows his brother has a twisted mind-set, he takes the lessons he learned to heart.

Because although Klaus sees him and Elijah as two opposites. As good and evil, Stiles sees them differently.

Elijah strengthens his spirited. Klaus strengthens his mind and ‘Bekah, strengthens his grieving heart.

They entire into a small hill-down clearing. There is a small ramp that leads a little further into the river and a small wooden cabin is located on the right. It’s shrouded, cloaked by the hanging branches. It’s small, holds maybe only one room, facing towards the river with a small wooden porch.

Leaves and dust collects on the porch, making it clear no one lives here.

“My mom and dad use to come here.” Derek tells him softly.

Stiles nod, not looking at Derek. He steps down the small inclined land, leaning forward just a bit and sure enough there is a Triskelion on the cabin door. He looks around him. The river is vast, expanding, and gives whoever comes here a great view of flowing water, there is a small current causing the water to quiver languidly, moving slowly with the soft breeze.

Stiles can see on the other side of the river and he turns to Derek. “What’s on the other side?”

Derek comes to stand next to him. “Another pack. It’s a small one, they came here a few years ago looking for a sanctum. They keep to themselves mostly. The Lahey Pack.”

“You don’t know them very well?”

“No. While werewolves are communal, some Alphas prefer to not interact with other packs. I have only met the Alpha once. He’s not a man I want to be associated with.”

Stiles frowns. “Meaning?”

“Meaning he has his own views on how a pack should be run and I don’t agree with him.” Derek says sharply.

“Don’t get you panties in a bunch, I was merely asking.”

Derek sighs through his nose, taking in a short calming breath.

He turns to Stiles. “So-“

“Oh dear God, is this were you ask me to tell you something about myself?”

Derek clenches his jaw and Stiles feels a wave of satisfaction rush through him. He’s aching to see the real Derek behind this calm facade he has adapted. It’s there, Stiles knows it.

“Are you always such a smart ass?”

Stiles smirks. “It’s my Hybrid charm.”

“Must be an acquired charm then.”

“It grows on people.”

“Like fungus?” Derek asks.

“Now who’s the smart ass?”

Derek grins. “Still you.”

Stiles smirks at him. Derek scoff a laugh, shaking his head. He looks amused at something, like a thought just occurred and he finds it funny. Stiles wants to ask, his eager to know, his always-curious side itches to ask but he bits his tongue. The banter is all fun and games but in the end, Stiles still doesn’t know Derek and they aren’t friends.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is this the part where we play getting to know you before marriage?”

Derek stares at him.

“Go ahead.” Stiles concedes.

Derek stares at him for a second, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “I know, from folk lore that I have read, that with Vampirism comes Immortality. You said you were bitten when you’re pack died so how are you…?”

“Aged?” Stiles finishes off.

Derek nods hesitantly.

It’s a question he has been wondering about for a long time too. It’s the problem Rebekah struggled with for a years until they started noticing the small changes. They started noticing that he was growing, it was slow but it was happening.

Elijah and Klaus had different reactions. Klaus wanted to know what made Stiles so special and Elijah searched everywhere for answers.

“I don’t know.” Stiles answers. “When I was turned… for some reason my wolf side was stronger, it was as if it was at war with my other side. We looked for answers and then my family found a witch who had some information about what was happening. She was vague about it and didn’t really have a conclusive answer only that… my soul was not at peace with who I am.”

Stiles can see Derek frowning from the corner of his eye at the word ‘family’ but he chooses to ignore it. He will not explain any further unless Derek asks.

“What happened?” Derek asks.

Stiles looks out in front of him. He shoves his fingers into his jean pockets, trying to draw tranquillity from the nature around him. It has always helped calm his werewolf side, while family has always been an anchor to his vampire side.

“You ever hear how some witches can cheat death?” He asks, looking over to Derek in question. When the Alpha nods his head, Stiles continues, “Well they can, by slowing their aging process. This witch, she found some spell, made some modifications to it and casted it upon me. The spell accelerated my aging process, which is why I look 20 even though I am 23, but… it’s not going to last long. Soon, my werewolf side will no longer fight with my vampire side. And then the spell will break.”

There is a heavy pause as Derek takes in everything Stiles told him. He knows it’s a lot to digest, Malia, Allison and Lydia took sanctum in Lydia’s room after Stiles told them that soon he would become Immortal and then… he will have to watch them age and die.

He called Niklaus that night, needing his words of wisdom and his twisted way with words more than ever.

“How long ago was that?” Derek asks gravely.

Stiles understands, logically, why Derek is worried. He has known about him for most of his life. When a werewolf bonds with another that bond remains no matter how far apart they are. Some part of Derek cares for Stiles, and a part of Stiles understands that but the other side of him, the side that grew up in a harsh world, where white lies were nothing but a fantasy and you were either burdened with the truth or manipulated with false words, doesn’t really care if Derek is worried about him.

However, Stiles answers him. “She casted the spell 15 years ago. The day is near.”

“You don’t know?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I’m what you call an anomaly so we don’t really know.”

“You keep saying ‘we’ but I get the sense you’re not talking about the girls.”

Stiles quirks his lips at him. “I am and I’m not.”

Derek turns his body to face him, his green eyes hardening in irritation just a bit. “That’s not an answer.”

“That is your perspective.” Stiles shrugs. “I have secrets Derek and even though I told you something about myself it doesn’t mean I am going to tell you everything.”

Derek opens his mouth and closes it again. He’s face tightens in anger and when Stiles glances down he sees his fist are clenched. He looks up calmly at Derek, daring him to do something, daring him to take his frustration out of him. But Derek does neither, he just shakes his head and turns around, take a few steps away from Stiles.

Running his fingers through his head, Derek spins around. “My family is in danger. For this alliance to work, we need to be honest with each other, Mikolaj- _Stiles_.” He corrects himself. “You keeping things from me is not going to help our situation! How can I trust you when I know I don’t know the real you.”

Stiles clenches his jaw. He feels the skin under his eyes move as the black veins slowly become visible. “You _never_ knew the real me. Whatever image you and you’re pack have invented is nothing but an illusion. This, what you get, this is the real me. I don’t owe you or your pack anything.”

The anger and frustration drains from Derek and for a small moment, Stiles can see the strain he has on his shoulders before the Alpha straightens up, locks his calm and collected eyes with Stiles and then he nods.

“Wonderful. Glad we’re at least in the same book.” Stiles nods.

He gives Derek his space. The Alpha closes his eyes and after a few solid breathes, his facade has returned. He comes to stand next to Stiles, keeping a small distance between them.

“I should apologize to you.”

Stiles remains silent, nodding only briefly for Derek to continue.

“Before,” Derek says forcefully, swallowing down his pride. “When I tried to convince you to help me. I manipulated you, using your former pack as a reason for you to help. I played on your emotions, your werewolf side and its need for a pack and I apologize for that.”

Stiles feels a small burst of laughter build up in his chest but he suppresses it. His lips tug up into a lop-sided smirk.

“You didn’t manipulate me, Derek.” Stiles replies. “Manipulation requires a need for something. I have no need for family because I already have one.”

Derek opens his mouth but gets cut off by a piercing howl. It breaks through the woods and Stiles feels it strike his body. His spine goes ridged and he’s already taking off before he realizes it, following the scent, following their heartbeats as a name plays over and over in his head.

 _Malia_.


	7. The Devil Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mikaelson within Stiles is revealed and someone finally learns who Stiles really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There will be Violence in this Chapter. If that is a bother, or will in any way Trigger anyone reading, please drop reading after : 'Stiles steps out of the woods'.. Until: 'Stiles speeds to Allison'. 
> 
> Thank you and Enjoy.

The scene before him makes his blood boil. He snarls, watching as hunters hold every member of the Hale Pack at gun point. He can smell the Wolfsbane, he hears Jackson, Erica, Boyd and the other whimpers, laying on the floor, withering in pain.

Malia is standing in front of Lydia, crouching and growling, her claws out, her eyes glowing electric blue.

“Let her go.” Malia growls.

The hunter laughs, pressing the tip of his dagger against Allison’s neck. His hand is covering her mouth.

“If I were you, I would do as she says.”

Stiles steps out of the woods, glaring at the hunters. Some turn to point their guns of him but Stiles speeds past them, grabbing onto the man who is clearly the leader, wrapping his arm around his chest, gripping onto to his wrists, keeping it firmly behind him back.

He ignores the shocked looks from every member of the Hale Pack, choosing to look at the men holding Allison. His eyes turn and he feels his teeth elongate into fangs as he snarls at them.

“Let her go.” He says in a low tone to them.

The hunters stand their ground, but Stiles can see the uncertainty in their eyes, the war waging within them on whether they should complete their mission or save one of their own.

Talia Hale is staring at him with wide, horror filled eyes. As is everyone else when Stiles bares his teeth and digs his sharp claws into the hunter’s chest, dragging it down slowly, feeling the skin tear apart, the blood trailing from the wound, down his arm.

“What’s to say I don’t rip this man’s throat out this instant, then what shall become of all of you?” Stiles asks, his eyes falling on all the hunters.

“What the hell are you?” The man in his arms groan in pain.

Stiles laughs, tugging the man close so the sides of their faces are inches apart. “I am the thing of nightmares.”

He digs his claws in further for good measure, smirking when the hunter screams, causing the other’s to exchange glances, uncertainty clouding their eyes. They are looking around, trying to find some escape.

The hunters holding Allison, tugs her closer. He presses his knife against her neck, breaking the skin. Stiles watches as she barely flinches, refusing to show weakness. Her eyes remain hard, glaring ahead.

Stiles growls.

“Let him go.” One hunter says. “Or I will kill her. We will kill every beast here.”

Stiles raises his eyes brows. “Do it.” He taunts.

The other werewolves shift, the poison running through their veins. Jackson coughs up a black substance, rolling over as he retrenches. Sweat mats the bare visible skin of all the others. Cora and Laura groan on the floor, clutching their bleeding wounds.

“Do it,” Stiles repeats. “But make no mistake… If you lay one finger on them, I will rip your hearts out and send it to your families.”

“We’re not afraid you.” A hunter says, cocking his gun at Erica and Boyd. “We have men in more numbers than you can count. They want their blood for what Hale did to Kate. And I am sure they would want a piece of Argent’s backstabbing daughter too. Someone who turns on their own people, is as much an enemy as you freaks.”

At the mention of Allison’s name, fury and anger courses through Stiles. He lets out a loud animalistic growl before baring his teeth, whipping his head around and sinks his teeth into the hunter’s neck. He feels the man’s blood drip down his chin, pour down his throat and as delicious the taste is, he pulls away when the man is drained just enough.

He drops the screaming body.

Before any of them can attack, Derek jumps from the woods, landing behind the man holding a gun at his mother. He grabs his shoulder and throws him to the side. The hunter soars through the air, his body connecting with two men standing over Laura and Cora.

Derek roars, his eyes red, his teeth bared.

Stiles speeds to the men holding Allison, grabbing their arms, hearing the satisfied snap and crack of their bones as he breaks each of their arms.

A gun shot goes off.

He stops, spinning around to see Allison gasp, her hand clutching her stomach. Blood spills through her fingers. She drops to her knees, her eyes wide and locked on Stiles.

Malia’s roar deafens him. Three more men drop as she slashes their throats.

Stiles speeds to Allison, catching her as she falls back. She gasps, her bloodied hand grabbing onto his shirt. Lydia and Malia falls down beside her. Malia is already pressing down at her wound.

“Leave.” He hears Derek say. “Take your men and get out. Let the message be clear, anyone who comes after the Hale Pack will not be treated with mercy.”

Stiles ignores the other hunters, the last remaining, as they all make their escape. His attention is only on Allison. He moves around her, keeping one arm around her waist, hooking the other under her legs and then he lifts her up.

He speeds to the Hale’s living room, gently lowering Allison down on their couch, listening to her gasps and muffled groans.

“Shh,” He says, trying to sooth her. “I’m gonna be right back, okay?”

Malia bursts through the door and Stiles takes off. He rushes to his bag, pulling out the small case that holds Elijah’s blood in plastic tubes. He speeds to Allison’s side, seeing that some members of the Hale Pack are already inside.

Scott is looking down at Allison, his eyes wide with fear.

Stiles drops to his knees beside her, opening the tube. Malia helps, holding her head up as Stiles pours the crimson liquid into her mouth. Allison cough, but swallows every last drop. She grimace in disgust and Stiles soothes her by running his fingers through her hair.

Derek bursts in with Jackson, holding onto him. His chin is covered in what looks like black ink.

“Malia, Lydia, help them.” Stiles orders.

 

 

*

 

 

After everyone has been taken care of and the Wolfsbane has been taken out of their systems, Stiles, with the help of Derek, gets rid of the bodies of the hunters.

Neither of them say anything and Stiles knows Derek saw everything and heard everything he said to those men. Everyone in the Hale Pack heard him and Stiles is not bothered by it.

It is time the werewolves learned that the image they all had of him is false and that the man they believed him to be is nothing but a figment of their imagination.

Stiles finds himself sitting by the couch, waiting for Allison to recover. Lydia had taken the bullet out and the wound has already healed. All there is left is for Allison to wake up.

“What was that? That you gave her?”

Stiles turns his head and looks over at Scott. The Beta has been sitting with them, his puppy eyes locked on Allison’s body, never once moving. Even now, as he speaks to Stiles, his eyes are on Allison. Stiles should hate it, but knowing that someone in this pack cares for her, has overlooked her status as a not only a witch but as a former member of the Argent family, means someone will protect her along with Stiles if anyone were to hurt her.

Though he isn’t foolish enough to believe Scott will go against his own pack for a girl, the action isn’t unheard of.

“Vampire blood.” Stiles answers.

“WHAT?” Jackson asks.

He jumps up from where is sitting on the couch where Erica and Boyd lay unconscious, the removing of the Wolfsbane having been too painful for their body’s to handle.

“You gave her vampire blood, are you insane?” He shouts.

Stiles glares at him. “On the contrary, had I not given it to her, she would be dead. And need I remind you, if she had died today, you would have more dead bodies to deal with.”

“And what if she died with that crap still in her?” Jackson shouts, taking a step forward.

A growl rumbles within Stiles’ chest at Jackson but he chooses to ignore both his anger and Jackson and return his eyes to Allison. A small hum leaves her, her eyebrows twitch, crunching up.

Lydia and Malia shift forward, crowding around her almost immediately. The other members of the Hale Pack, turn their heads to look at her. Derek and Talia re-emerge from the dining area. Stiles knows they were discussing pack business, trying to come with an outlined plan as to how to handle the attack.

He didn’t have the energy to listen in, focusing all this attention on Allison and knowing Malia would have kept an ear out. She is always the one that listens in, even if it is not allowed.

“Sti- Stile…” Allison struggles to say.

Stiles tightens his grip on her hand, lifting his other hand up to run his fingers through her hair. Malia runs her hands over Allison’s leg while Lydia strokes Allison’s right hand with her thumb.

“Stiles…” Allison sighs and finally, her eyelids flutters, slowly opening up.

Her brown eyes move around, taking in everything around her. Her eyes land on Lydia who is sitting on the back rim of the couch, she pauses and Stiles sees her stomach clench as she holds her breath. Her eyes land on Malia, who is crouched next to Stiles, and slowly, almost hesitantly, she looks up and her eyes land on Stiles.

Her stomach relaxes as she lets out a sigh of relief.

“How…?” She asks but trails off.

Stiles smirks at her. “Elijah.”

They have spoken about the use of Vampire blood for healing purposes and Elijah had insisted upon it once he found out 2 quarters of Stiles’ pack are humans.

“I should thank him.” She mumbles, her eyes drooping.

Her head lolls to the side as sleep succumbs her. Before Scott or any other Hale Pack member starts shouting, and asking questions, Stiles straightens up and picks Allison up once more.

He turns around, looking at Derek and Talia. “She is exhausted so I will lay her down. I know you want to discuss things with me and once she is in bed, I will return.”

He sounds formal, he knows he does but this is the only tone he can manage. If he’s true emotion, his anger were to take hold, Stiles would set Allison down in the room she and the girls are bunking in and then he would track down every last one of those hunters…

Talia looks disturbed but with one long shared glance toward her son, she nods to Stiles.

Malia and Lydia stands up and follow him. He can hear Lydia’s thundering heart beat and he doesn’t have to turn around to know she is biting her lip, mentally coming up with a plan of escape and a backup plan and most likely, knowing Lydia Martin, a backup plan for the backup plan.

As he enters, Malia steps around him toward the bed, pulling the covers back. Stiles lowers Allison down and Malia draws the covers over her.

“I’ll stay with her. You two go.” Malia says briefly looking up at Stiles as she lowers herself down onto the edge of the bed.

Nodding, Stiles turns and Lydia follows. They make their way down the stairs, their footsteps louder than ever, given how silent the Hale Mansion is.

When they reach the last step, Erica and Boyd, panting and slightly slumped are awake, sitting on the couch, looking at them. Cora and Jackson are with them and standing by the entry of the dining room is Derek, Talia, Laura and Scott.

All of them are looking at Stiles and Lydia.

No one says anything.

After a while, Derek clears his throat, looking at Lydia and Stiles. “We had Scott track their scents so we know they aren’t anywhere near the land.”

Stiles clenches his jaw.

Lydia’s speaks up angrily. “Isn’t there some kind of boundary around this place? We were under the impression that you could all sense if intruders are near?”

The Hale Family exchanges glances.

Derek nods. “There is but… since the loss of the Hale Pack members, our ties to the land have weaken, which is why it was so easy for them to enter.”

“Meaning?” Lydia asks.

Laura sighs and gives Lydia a hard look. “ _Meaning_ , that somehow, our pack bond is weak. We don’t have the connection we once had with the land because we are new to this particular land, we need to re-establish our connection with it.”

Stiles catches a fleeting look of sorrow in her eyes before it’s gone.

“And when were you planning on telling us that?” Lydia shouts, taking a step forward.

Stiles’ hand flashes up, his fingers wrapping around her wrist so she doesn’t move any further.

Some werewolves look down at their hands, their eyes slowing turning to Stiles. He can see the uncertainty and the fear in them. Jackson’s lip curls slightly, his body hunches as if ready to act Stiles. Lydia grits her teeth, turning her head to glare at Stiles.

Stiles lets go of her but she doesn’t move closer the others.

“Stiles…” Talia says, her dark eyes landing on him and The Hybrid meets it head on. “We… need to discuss some things.”

She’s vague, because she is weary of him. They all are. Erica and Boyd have lost the amazed look they once held in their eyes when looking at him. Scott shifts, his eyes narrowing every now and then as if he is trying to figure Stiles out.

“If you want to address what occurred with the hunters feel free.” Stiles says casually.

Derek’s jaw flexes.

Talia looks to the other members, running her eyes over every single one before she looks at him.

“Maybe we should discuss this at the dining table?”

“No.”

Everyone turns to look at Lydia as she crosses her arm over her chest.

“We don’t have time for formalities. If you want to talk about Stiles and what he did then speak about it. It’s not something that can be sugar coated or something that should be _politely_ discussed.”

Stiles knows he should speak up but his blood is still boiling and he doesn’t need to scare them anymore than they already are. He wants to scream at them, to demand why he was giving false pretenses. He wants to know why they made it seem that the land him and his pack were entering was safe.

But he doesn’t.

He hears Rebekah’s voice in his head, feels her imaginary hands on his shoulders, calming him down.

_Now, now, Stiles. Though you might have the power and urge to kick someone’s arse doesn’t mean you should._

“All right,” Derek says, looking away from Lydia before locking his eyes on Stiles. “What you did back there, was total bullshit!”

“Derek!” Talia shouts but Derek ignores her.

“Not only did you kill hunters, you gave them even more reason to come after us now. We don’t only have the death of Kate Argent on our hands but the deaths of three other hunters who have families and who have people that will come after us to avenge them.”

He makes a good point, Stiles thinks.

“You saved my pack, and for that I am grateful but there is line, a line that we don’t cross. You not only crossed that line, you burned it today by spilling blood and by taunting them. We let them go, and now they know what we have, they know we have more people on our side.”

Lydia’s green eyes flicker to Stiles but she says nothing.

After years of working alongside one another, she knows what Stiles is truly thinking.

She knows the uncontrollable desire he has to protect those he loves. It’s what makes him who is. It’s what inspires the goodness in him but also fuels the darkness within.

“Now we have more hunters coming after us, thanks to you and your ego trip!” Derek finishes off, his voice raising near the end.

The other werewolves shift uncomfortably. Cora and Laura are gaping at Derek in shock, and Talia, his mother, looks resigned. She shuts her eyes briefly at Derek’s outburst.

This… This is the real Derek Hale.

A flash of strawberry blonde passes the corner of his eyes as Lydia moves forward. “You listen to me you son of—“’

“Lydia.” Stiles cuts her off calmly.

She spins around, staring at him. Stiles nods subtly.

He licks his lips, forcing his anger down as he turns to look at Derek. “I understand where you are coming from,” He starts. “But someone I love was about to get hurt, and I am not about to apologize for saving her. Nor am I about to apologize for my pack defending one of their own.”

He looks at every one in the room. “You people asked for my help. You asked me, Lydia, Allison and Malia to risk our lives to help you fight your enemy. We don’t need to be here and we will leave if you want us to, make no mistake. What you saw out there is the way The Mikaelson Pack fights.”

Talia stiffens at the name and finally, Stiles knows _she_ knows who he truly is.

The others frown at the name.

“You want me as an ally then take me as I am. If someone, anyone, hurts my girls, I will not hesitate to rip their hearts out. It’s who I am, and it’s the person you have aligned yourself with.”

“We do not work like that.” Derek growls.

Stiles cocks his head to the side. There is a need to antagonize Derek, to piss him off but Stiles ignores it. It is time they see him for who is.

As Klaus says: Honesty is the best policy, especially if it works to your advantage…

Stiles answers. “Maybe, but several member of your pack has died due to the way you work. It’s time you stop asking questions and kill before they make a choice.”

Laura and Cora growls, their eyes flashing gold.

Jackson and Scott take a step forward towards their pack members. Stiles allows it, he lets his harsh words affect them the way it should. They have lived in solace and peace, and due to that, they have no idea of the true meaning behind war.

Sometimes, peace and alliances… is the end of all things.

It’s when those two things occur, that the true enemy gains their power.

“This is no longer a fight, this is war. And if I am to work with you, I am not going to hide behind this blanket of peace.”

Talia looks at him, her dark eyes are now passive, but the small tilt of her chin shows… respect. The Hale Pack glance at one another. Derek glares at him, his fists shaking.

“We do not kill.” He forces out.

Stiles looks at Lydia. “We don’t either.” He turns to Derek. “We need to fight back. Not only in the name of the every Hale Pack Member that died but for all those innocent packs those hunters have killed. It’s time hunters learn that we are not the prey… We are the Predators.”

Derek’s eyes harden, the anger he has been burying deep within finally breaking through. And suddenly, Stiles can see the Alpha within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S: When Stiles was taunting the Hunters, he knew no harm was going to come to Allison. He was waiting for Derek to make an appearance and buying time. In case it come off as Stiles not giving a shit about Allison's life.


	8. Game of Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Hope you Enjoy it.

“Jackson!” Derek shouts.

Stiles watches silently from the porch as Jackson pounces on Erica, who jerks to the side, sidestepping him, before swinging her hand out- claw free- to scratch him.

Derek shakes his head and moves to Jackson. “Stop playing around.”

He says firmly. He turns to look at Erica and then back at Jackson. “This is why you two can’t work together, because every single time you two fight, you mess around, try to antagonize the other and in the end, neither of you are actually training.”

Jackson glares at Erica who rolls her eyes at him.

“Again!” Derek shouts.

They have been doing this for hours now.

It’s been two week since the attack and every free time they have when they aren’t busy with the teaching of the rituals, they have are using for training. Derek has asked for Stiles’ opinion during those sessions, keeping his voice formal and not at all open and polite like he used to be.

Stiles has given his opinions but it seems to have fallen on deaf ears. He doesn’t step in, try to take charge because this is Derek’s pack. How he sees fit to handle them is entirely up to him.

Talia Hale stands next to him, her arms crossed over her stomach as she watches her son’s pack. She had greeted him with a smile and a polite nod, like always, but Stiles can see the curiosity in her eyes whenever she looks at him.

She wants to know about Stiles and his relationship with the Mikaelson’s. Stiles is shocked she hasn’t divulged her knowledge to the others already, given that they still look at him the same way after the attack.

Sighing, he turns his eyes to see Malia training with Scott. She kicks, she spins and she punches but every blow is met with hesitation. Scott attacks but Stiles can see the way he holds himself back.

Laura is training with Boyd and they seem to be doing well. They are familiar with each other but from the sharpness in their eyes, it’s clear they aren’t familiar with the other’s fighting style. Which is good, it means they are focused and not distracted like everyone else.

Cora is with Lydia. And as always, the werewolf is too scared to properly attack the human.

Allison is sitting on the far side on the ground. She has already trained with Stiles and is now looking through the list of plants Talia had given her, most likely, trying to come up with some kind of new potion or spell.

“So, what do you think?”

Stiles turns to Talia, but she is not looking at him.

“They need a lot of training that much is clear. Their minds and their body’s aren’t familiar with battles so they aren’t aware of the danger they are in. It shows in their relaxed posture.”

“Indeed.” Talia nods, her lips tugging up at the corners. She turns to look at him. “And I am guessing you know about battle… and _war_.”

Stiles presses his lips together. “Yes.”

“Because of the family that turned you?” She asks, phrasing her words carefully.

Stiles turns his head, looking out at the two packs, watching as Derek looks at every single werewolf, his eyes narrowed, his arms firmly crossed over his chest, biceps bulging, as he analysis the training taking place before him.

“My _family_ , Mrs. Hale, are familiar with battle, if that is what you are asking.”

He makes sure to stress the words ‘my family’.

He doesn’t begrudge the Mikaelson’s for keeping him ‘alive’ so to speak and he will always remember his mother and father but while they may have been with him in spirit, it is the Mikaelson’s who took him in, who helped him through his grief.

“Do you really consider those people your family, Mikolaj?”

She turns to look at him and Stiles meets her stare head on. “Yes.”

Footsteps comes closer and Stiles looks over to see Derek making his way towards them. His brows are pulled together, making it clear he heard every word of the conversation but Stiles lets it be. Derek hasn’t asked and Stiles will tell him nothing that he doesn’t need to know… not yet.

“So…” Derek walks up the porch steps, making his way to them and stands next to Stiles. “Want to take over?”

Stiles’ head snaps over to him and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

Derek smirks. “You will, hopefully, be their Alpha too and you might as well practice that role.”

Stiles scoffs. “Are you sure you want me to train your pack? I can be brutal.”

Derek looks out to the werewolves, pulling his lips together and out in a contemplating pout. Stiles can’t help but run his eyes over Derek’s jaw line, the way his stubble looks prickly, shaping his jaw, sharpening it further.

This has been happening a lot lately.

After getting a glimpse of the true Derek Hale, Stiles has started noticing small things about him. The way his hands are always curled in fists whenever he and the Mikaelson and Hale pack are discussing something. The way he flexes his jaw before he speaks… Small things that Stiles shouldn’t be noticing.

“I’m sure.” Derek nods firmly.

Stiles raises his eyebrow. “All right then.”

Turning, Stiles makes his way to the porch, stepping down. With each step he takes, every Hale Pack member stops and turns to look at him. Stiles looks at each of them, making sure their attention is solely on him before he speak.

“Derek has given me permission to take over. In doing so, I am going to switch you up. Allison!” he shouts, turning to look at her.

She looks up, dropping her book and stands up. She makes her way over to him, her chin tilted up and her eyes ready for a fight.

Stiles returns his attention to the others.

“Now, I am sure you all have your own form of fighting but there are flaws. Flaws that hunters will notice. While they may be human and you have them at a disadvantage due to your speed and strength, they have been trained to kill, while you have been trained to fight.”

The werewolves exchange glances.

“And that difference will mean life or death.”

Erica narrow her eyes. “You want us to kill them?” She asks, her voice laced with disgust.

Stiles calmly looks at her, letting her tone bounce off him. “No. I want you to _know_ how to kill them. While we may be were-creatures, we are not monsters. But…after what you all saw me do, you are free to not have me train you.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Derek shift, his arms dropping to his sides. Stiles knows Derek expected him to take charge but Stiles is not Derek.

He is not an Alpha and he will not lead these people if they didn’t want to be led by him.

When no one says anything, Stiles nods. “Okay, good. Come closer.”

Exchanging glances, the werewolves, and Lydia and Malia shuffle forward, almost surrounding Stiles.

“Jackson,” Stiles starts, looking at the cocky werewolf. “You need to lower that ego of yours. Derek is right, you are more focused on what impression you leave than by actually leaving an impression.”

The werewolf curls his lips but remains silent.

Stiles continues. “You attack first. You’re on offense all the time and while that might be good, it also makes it easier for someone to take you down. You attack without thought and in doing so, Cora took you down. ” Stiles says, referring to the previous training session. “Thinking and calculating, analyzing your opponent will be beneficial for you.”

“Erica,” He nods to the blonde. “You and Jackson, although you two butt heads most of time, have the same problem. You, too, do not think. You’re on survival mode when you fight and again, while that could be beneficial, it also gives your opponent an advantage. If you were to be taken by surprise, your survival instincts would kick in, it could hinder you from actually making a plan of escape and you’d end up just fighting, fighting until you tire out or get killed. You use your body too much, making your moves easy to predict, which Jackson would have done had he been using his brain instead of just his body. But again, your body can be your greatest advantage, using it and knowing when and where to strike will help.”

“Scott, you are hesitant.” He looks to the crooked-jaw werewolf. Scott straightens up, locking eyes with Stiles, ready to take in what he is about to be told. “You have a good heart and it shows. You hesitate when you were training with Malia and you didn’t attack when you should have and that made it easier for her to take you down. You look for ways to take down your opponent without harming them. That is your only flaw but it is a dangerous one.”

“Boyd,” He shifts his eyes to the always-silent werewolf. “Familiarity is your problem. You use your surroundings as a strength and while that is an excellent strategy, it will hinder you because you rely on it too much. If you were to be placed in an unknown territory against someone who knows _that_ surrounding better than you, you will get killed. By using your ability to use your surroundings as a weapon, you, like Erica and Jackson, need to think before you attack. Your body is built for strength and that along with your brain will make it harder to beat you.”

“Laura and Cora,” The Hale women look at him, their eyebrows drawn together and their arms crossed over their chests. “Because your fighting styles are similar, it has the same flaw. You rely too much on your wolves than on yourselves. Which is understandable but there is more to both of you than just your claws and your teeth. Laura,” He addresses the older Hale. “You, Erica and Malia have almost the same body structure, therefore, you can use it as an advantage. Speed for women is their greatest weapon. Ask Allison and Lydia.”

“Cora, you’re short and because of that you’re faster than most of the werewolves here, your body mass is less and that makes it easier for you to maneuver it any way you want.”

Stiles takes in a deep breath after he is done.

He waits, watching as everyone takes in everything they have been told. They are worried, Stiles can tell. No doubt because they weren’t aware how risky one flaw can be. He steals a glance at Derek to see the Alpha standing next to his mother, his lips tugged up into a smirk.

Looking away, Stiles nods to Malia and Lydia. They move closer to him and come to stand by his side.

“Now,” He raises his voice. “Malia had the same problem, she relied on her coyote side too much and Lydia didn’t use her body and her structure to her advantage. They are going to do a demonstration, show you what you are capable of.”

Jackson frowns at Stiles. “You’re gonna put a human up against a were-coyote? Isn’t that a little unfair?”

“Why?” Stiles asks. “Because she is human?”

“Of course because she’s human. She could get hurt!” He takes a step closer.

“I’m a Banshee,” Lydia says sharply. “And I can stand up for myself.”

Stiles bits the inside of his bottom lip and watches as Jackson locks eyes with Lydia, who holds the stare until the werewolf looks away.

He sighs inwardly.

It seems Stiles is going to have to have a talk with two members of the Hale Pack.

“To the center.” Stiles instructs.

Lydia, with one final glare at Jackson, walks with Malia to the center of the open land. They take their stance, making it clear this isn’t the first time they have done this. Allison comes to stand next to Stiles as all the other werewolves’ turns to look at Malia and Lydia.

“Go!” Stiles shouts.

Malia hisses, her fingers curling but her claws do not extend. She swipes at Lydia who jerks from side to side, avoiding each attack. Malia swipes at her head and Lydia ducks but she doesn’t anticipate Malia kicking her leg out, knocking Lydia off her feet.

The Banshee falls to the ground with a grunt.

She looks up at Malia and grins. “Been practicing?”

Malia smirks.

Hardening her features, Lydia brings up her legs and flips up, landing firmly on her feet.

They circle each other, fists in front of them. This time, Lydia throws the first punch but Malia pushes her arm away, using the move to spin and swing her other fist, her knuckles collides with the side of Lydia’s jaw.

The werewolves tense up and some move closer.

“Stop.” Stiles orders them. “Do not interfere.”

Lydia shakes off the strike and kicks her leg out, aiming for Malia’s side but the coyote sidesteps it, making it easier for her to dodge the attack but Lydia keeps up and so a dance begins. They attack. They kick. Malia gets a hit in, using her agility to duck and flip when required but Lydia using her brain, uses the attack to her advantage, twisting and turning to get a strike in of her own.

Stiles smirks proudly, watching as the Hale Pack’s eyes widen in shock as they watch a human and a were-creature fight, equally, neither having the upper hand and with whatever disadvantage they have, they use their advantage to keep up.

Malia has her strength and her speed.

Lydia has her brain and her body.

Suddenly, Lydia pounces on Malia, twisting her body around, wrapping her legs around Malia’s neck, twisting and then soon Malia is soaring through the air, rolling and dropping on her back.

Lydia drops, crouching on the ground and looks up sharply, her hair flaring out, revealing a smug look.

“Been practicing.” The feisty red head smirks at Malia.

The were-coyote drops her head to the ground and lets out a deep, panted chuckle.

Stiles shakes his head at Lydia, walking over to her. He stretches his hand out and she takes it. As he pulls her up, he look over to see Allison helping Malia up.

When she locks eyes with Stiles, The Hybrid raises his eyebrows and Malia nods.

Satisfied, he turns to look back at the Hale Pack. Jackson is looking at Lydia in awe, his mouth agape. Laura, Cora and Erica are staring at the girls with a new found respect and Stiles can see the admiration in their eyes.

“That,” Stiles says proudly, “Is what I am willing to teach you. No matter what you are, human or not, if you know how to use and manipulate your disadvantage, and turn it into a strength, nothing, not even a were-creature can take you done. Are you willing to learn?”

They all nod firmly.

 

 

\-------

 

 

“That was impressive, I must say.”

From the porch, Stiles looks away from the panting Hale Pack and his Pack. They are all laying on the ground, their stomach moving rapidly as they try to lower their pounding hearts that are music to Stiles’ ears.

Lydia and Malia are laying with Allison who had been training with Erica and Cora. To say he is proud of his girls would be saying he _just_ loves his family.

Both would be a great understatement.

He looks up to the person that spoke to him and smirks. “ _They_ are impressive.”

Derek nods, taking a step closer. “Yeah, I know but I meant the way you led them.” His eyes lock on Stiles. “They are safer with you here.”

Stiles swallows but says nothing.

Calmly, he shrugs his shirt over his tank top. He removed it while training, the heat of the sun having been too much. From the corner of his eye, he sees Derek’s eyes run over his body, down his neck, down his bare arms before he looks up to Stiles’ face once more.

“Guess that confirms my suspicion then.” Stiles comments, smirking at Derek.

The Alpha frowns, cocking his head to the side. “Confirms what?”

Fixing his collar, he takes a step closer. “If you were attracted to men.”

“You really think I would marry a man if I was not attracted to men?”

Stiles shrugs. “How should I know? After all, I know nothing about werewolf customs.”

Derek rolls his eyes, turning away to look out in front of him. “So what next?”

Smirking, Stiles looks at him for a second before he turns to follow Derek’s eyes, looking out, seeing that some of Hale Pack members have migrated towards his girls.

Erica and Laura are talking with Lydia and Allison while Malia and Cora are having a conversation with Scott and Jackson. Boyd is sitting behind Erica as she leans back against him, silent as always.

“When did your mother say the trials would start?”

“It already did.”

His head snaps over to Derek, the peaceful feeling vanishes as anger slowly starts bubbling within, growing hotter the longer he stares at Derek, who remains passive and calm.

“Excuse me?” He asks slowly, letting his anger seep through along with his words.

Derek turns to look at him. “This was one of them. It was to see how the Packs worked together. How they worked with you. They are slowly starting to trust one another.” He says indicting to Allison and Laura who are laughing at something. “You have proven that you are able to lead them and that they are willing to be led by you.”

Stiles grits his teeth. “You didn’t think to inform me on this?”

“If I did, you would not have done it. If they knew, they would have gone against it. If something develops naturally, without intention, it is more reliant.”

He wants to grab Derek’s shirt, tug at him roughly so he is facing him. He wants to punch the Alpha but he knows it won’t end well.

So instead he shuts his eyes, forcing his pounding, erratic heart down.

When Stiles opens his eyes once again, he sees Malia looking toward him, frowning. He gives her a small nod and she hesitates only for a beat before she turns back to the others.

“If you ever deceive me again, I will walk out.” Stiles growls under his breathe, knowing full well Derek can hear him. “I am not someone you want to test and I am not someone who enjoys being lied to.”

It is then that Derek turns around fully to look at him. “I didn’t lie to you, Mik- Stiles.”

“You deliberately withheld information from me. I need to know these things, Derek.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “You really want to talk about withholding information?”

“I haven’t withheld anything from you.”

Derek scoffs. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Stiles takes a menacing step forward. “If you wish to know something, then ask. I am not about to spill my secrets to you because I don’t know you nor do I trust you. Ask the right questions and I will give you the right answers but until then if you ever test me without my knowledge you can kiss our alliance goodbye because I refuse to work with someone who has a hidden agenda.”

They glare at one another, Stiles’ whiskey eyes cold and hard, his brows knitted together and Derek’s eyes darkened with restrained emotions.

Stiles can feel Derek’s warm breath against his face with each panting breath he takes. Someone clears their throat. Stiles slowly turns his head to see Talia standing by the front door, her head tilted in a confused manner but there is a small curl in her lips as if she is being told a private joke.

“I hate to interrupt this clearly… interesting conversation but I think it’s best the others get into a shower. Then I can start dinner.” She says with a small smile playing on her lips.

Stiles breathes through his nose, forcing his irritation down as he looks at her. “Of course. I shall inform them.”

With a respectful nod toward her, he returns his eyes to Derek, giving him one final glare before he turns and makes his way over to the others.

Their chatter and laughter all blend in together, creating a melodic tone that eases his anger just a bit.

As Stiles gets closer, their voices dies down and some of the Hale Pack members tense up. Their eyes all fall on him, hesitant and suspicious.

“Mrs. Hale would like you all to clean up. She will be starting dinner soon.”

Malia perks up at the mention of food and springs up along with Scott, Erica and Laura. The others groan, slowly pushing themselves up off the ground.

Jackson helps Lydia up and something in Stiles snaps.

“Jackson. Scott. I would like to have a word with you two.”

The Hale Pack tenses up.

Laura narrows her eyes at Stiles. “Why?"

Stiles shakes his head at her. “It is nothing serious. After the talk, if they want to repeat what occurred, they can but for now I would like to talk to them privately.”

Jackson sighs and rolls his eyes in exasperation. Stiles’ hand twitches and he curls his fingers into a fist.

Lydia locks eyes with Stiles, narrowing them. He doesn’t look at her, choosing to keep his eyes on Scott and Jackson.

“It’s cool, guys.” Scott says calmly. “Stiles won’t hurt us.”

“That’s probably what the hunters thought too,” Cora mutters under her breath.

Stiles glares at her. “They deserved it.”

She cocks her eyebrow at him but otherwise says nothing.

As they all hesitantly shuffle away, Malia, Lydia and Allison stay behind.

“Is everything okay?” Allison asks.

“Yes, Allison.” Stiles says with a loving smile. “It’s just a talk, I promise.”

She nods, stepping forward to press a kiss to his cheek before allowing Lydia to hook her arm through hers and Malia’s as they make their way toward the Hale Mansion. He waits until he hears their feet hitting the wooden planked stairs before he focuses his attention on Scott and Jackson.

“Is this going to take long? I stink and it’s not doing well for me.” Jackson asks.

Stiles flexes his jaw, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Jackson… Need I remind you that I am capable of ripping your heart out of your chest in a second? Keep that mind the next time you try to antagonize me.”

Jackson shuts his mouth, tilting his chin up condescendingly but Stiles knows his threat has been received.

“Now,” He starts looking at Scott and Jackson. “I have noticed you two being too friendly with Allison and Lydia.”

Both Jackson and Scott freeze. Their hearts stop for a second before rapidly speeding up. They glances swiftly at one another.

“And that is understandable, they are beautiful women. However, I need to know from the two of you if this is attraction or something more?”

Jackson looks at Scott who meets his eyes briefly but neither says anything.

“Well? I don’t have all day.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows at them.

“I- I,” Scott stutters before he clears his throat loudly. “Yes.” He says firmly. “It is… something more… for me.”

“Okay. Jackson?” The werewolf swallows before he nods.

“Say it.” Stiles instructs. “I have… feelings for her. I think.”

“You _think_?”

He is putting him on the spot, he is aware of this but this is his Pack and he is not about to allow two men driven by nothing but their sex drive to lead Allison and Lydia on. They are two beautiful and amazing women but their beauty should not be the only reason these two men are pursuing them.

“Look, I have known her for a month. I don’t know!” Jackson shouts.

Stiles glares. “Do you like her for her beauty or her strength or her intelligence?”

Jackson, getting frustrated glares at Stiles, his cheeks turning a bright pink shade. “I don’t know, man! _All_ of them, I like all of them.”

Stiles bores his eyes deeply into Jackson’s, looking to see if he will back down from his outburst, take back what he had said.

Jackson glares at him and a small part of Stiles admires that trait about him. That Jackson, as cocky and egotistical as he is, refuses to be looked down upon by others.

Though, Stiles suspects he doesn’t need others to look down on him, given he does the job for them.

“Lydia and Allison are grown women but that doesn’t change the fact that they are two of the people I love the most. _Meaning_ ,” He looks at both Scott and Jackson. “Should either of you hurt them, whether it be intentionally or not, I will not hesitate to end your lives. And that is a threat you should take to heart.”

Jackson and Scott gulp.

“Besides,” Stiles says lightly, smirking at them. “You are going to wish I kill you after Malia and the girls are done with you. Now!” He says clapping his hands together, finding delight when they both jump. “Shall we head inside? Your stench is making me sick.”

He turns around, feeling a smirk break out on his face as he walks toward the Hale Mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title is from Ruelle's song which is imaged playing in the fight and training scenes
> 
> Next Chapter will be up next month. <3


	9. You Found Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet a new character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!! : This chapter features Death, a vivid description of violent and death and mention of abuse and oppression.

“So… Who are the Mikaelson’s?”

Stiles pauses, the rim of the beer bottle remain pressed against his lips. Slowly, he lowers the bottle, swallowing down the small amount of beer in his mouth, enjoying the cool bitter taste as it runs down his throat.

He looks over to Derek as The Alpha sits on the floor of the dusty wooden porch of the Hale Cabin. Sweat accumulating around his neck, dark wet strains around the neck line of his tank top and under his armpits. Wooden planks and tools lay scattered around him.

Derek looks up at him and shrugs. “You said I could ask and that you’d answer.”

The corners of Stiles lips tug up, “I suppose I did.” He muses. Pausing, he looks down the beer bottle as he tries to gathers his thoughts. “They are the people who took me in, gave me a home after my pack died.”

“And are they the Vampires who turned you?”

Stiles looks up and grins. “No.”

Derek holds his stare, clearing waiting for Stiles to add more to the answer but Stiles merely grins at him, bringing the beer bottle up to his lips to take a gulp. He shakes it, feeling the last remaining liquid swirling around.

Sighing with exasperation, Derek glares at Stiles. “You need to work on your communication skills.”

“You need to learn to communicate with your face rather than your eyebrows.”

Stiles chuckles when Derek frowns, his thick eyebrows pulls together to display his displeasure at the remark. Malia and Lydia call him ‘Alpha-brows’ behind his back.

“ _Who_ are the Mikaelson’s, Stiles?” Derek stresses out the ‘who’.

Stiles playful demeanor drops and he takes in Derek’s serious expression. No doubt, the Alpha is aware his mother knows who the Mikaelson’s are and Stiles is sure she told him to ask Stiles rather than her. He has been waiting for Derek to give in and ask all the questions Stiles can see swirling around in his head whenever he looks at him.

“How much do you know about Vampire Folklore?” Stiles asks.

“Stiles, just answer the damn question.” Derek says with frustration.

“I will. Now answer mine.”

Derek stares at him, his green-blue eyes bright and clear in the afternoon California light. “Okay… not that much. To be honest, I didn’t know they existed until I heard about what happened to you---”

Derek trials off his eyes widening and his head snaps over to Stiles.

“No.” Stiles dismisses the idea before it can root itself into Derek’s subconscious. “They are also not the ones who murdered my pack. Those who did have been killed.”

Derek nods slowly, his once tensed up body sagging back against the wooden walls of the cabin.

“Is that all you know?” Stiles asks, redirecting the conversation.

“Yeah, pretty much. Why?”

Stiles tips his bottle back, pouring the remaining beer into his mouth and swallows. “With every supernatural creature, there is always the First. Like our bloodlines apparently. And the Mikaelson’s are just that. They are known as The Originals back home.”

Derek freezes, shocked.

Stiles watches with humor as all the information slowly sinks in, as Derek tries to come up with response while simultaneously trying to understand what Stiles had just told him.

“You—“ He starts but his voice dies. “Your Family is…”

Stiles nods. “Yes.”

“But how… Why would they…?”

Stiles shrugs. “They aren’t uncompassionate monsters, Derek. They feel and they care. They took me in, after they realized I was turned. Trained me and… loved me.”

Derek shakes his head, still stunned with the new information.

Stiles pushes off the railing he is leaning against and walks over to pick up the discarded beer bottles around, placing them all in the plastic bag Derek bought with.

The Alpha seems to follow Stiles thoughts, and slowly stands up. He starts packing away his wood-work tools, piling up the planks to put inside the empty cabin, covering it with the white cloth.

As Derek and Stiles makes their way back to the Hale Mansion, taking the familiar path, Derek finally speaks up.

“What are they like? The Originals, I mean.” He asks, but even his hard tone can’t disguise his child-like curiosity.

“Cruel. Cold hearted. Kind. Caring.”

“Wow. That a group description or an individual one?”

Stiles laughs lightly, “Both.”

They come in various forms from Bekah, Klaus and Elijah but Stiles knows that while one has more of some than the other, they are all capable of all four descriptions.

He can feel Derek looking at him, but he keeps his eyes ahead. After the minor setback three days ago, Derek has been trying to return to the friendly dynamic they had before.

It’s working but sometimes they get frustrated at one another, Derek more than Stiles. The Alpha tries to be more open, trying to understand Stiles better. The Hybrid knows Derek occasionally goes to Talia Hale for counsel.

“Are they good people?”

Stiles smirks. “Depends on who you ask.”

He can hear Derek’s heart spike up and he doesn’t have to look at him to know he is clenching his jaw in anger.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes it is.”

He enjoys this, a little more than he should. Lydia and Allison has given him disapproving looks on more than one occasion, fully aware that Stiles has a way of grinding on peoples nerves and the fact that he enjoys doing so, only makes him do it more.

Derek says nothing after that and they both continue to walk in silence. As they get closer, Derek’s body tenses up, his hand shoots out, grabbing onto Stiles’ arm.

Stiles’ head snap down to the offending hand and he lifts his head to glare at Derek, only the Alpha is not looking at him, his eyes are running over the woods.

“Someone’s at the house.”

They share a glance before they take off.

Stiles is faster than Derek, so he arrives at the Hale Mansion before him. He sees Talia standing by the porch, talking with a woman, with long honey brown hair braided down her spin and a child, with a dark chocolate shade in similar style only with two braids. They are conversing lightly, smiling and nodding at one another.

The little girl turns her head, her eyes widening when they land on Stiles. She starts tugging at her mother’s hand, trying to get her attention as she points toward Stiles.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look!”

The mother slowly turns around and follow her daughter’s finger, her own green eyes widening in shock. Stiles frowns at them before looking over to Talia Hale. He runs his eyes over the Former Alpha, assessing her body for any sign of injury, or distress.

Talia smiles kindly at Stiles and nods.

Returning his eyes to the mother and her child, he hears Derek coming up behind him. The woman and child’s eyes widen further.

Stiles turns his head, locks eyes with Derek before they slowly make their way over to the intruder and Talia. The mother, child and Talia step off the porch, making their way over to the approaching party.

“Derek.” Talia greets once they are close enough. “Stiles. This is Claire from The Artemis Pack and her beautiful daughter, Annabeth.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows at the name… _Artemis_ …

“Alpha Hale, Alpha Stilinski, it is such an honour to meet you both.” The woman greets, taking a step forward.

At the last name, Stiles feels his gut tighten.

Flashes of a bright, angelic smile and kind blue eyes invade his thoughts.

He clenches his jaw, forcing the images away as the woman shakes Derek’s hand, and then she turns to Stiles. He takes her hand, giving it a firm shake, trying to force a smile on his lips.

“Anna.” The mother, Claire, says.

The little girl steps forward, head tilted back at she looks up at Stiles and Derek. She gives them a toothy grin, revealing her two front missing teeth.

“Hi!” She greets happily, causing Derek to let loose one of widest and brightest smiles Stiles has ever seen.

Derek takes a step forward, locking eyes with Claire, silently asking for permission and when she nods, he bends down in front of Annabeth. The little girl’s blue eyes widen as she looks at Derek’s face, amazement and wonder written in them.

“You know, you have grown up into a beautiful girl. I remember you when you were just a baby.” Derek says.

Annabeth giggles. “I know. Mama said you were there. I don’t remember you but Daddy has a picture.”

Stiles frowns at Derek. If he knew Annabeth and was there for her birth, how is that he has never met Claire?

“Christian couldn’t be here. He had to take care of some things.” Claire says to Derek.

The Alpha looks up and grins. “You sure it wasn’t because he was lazy?”

Claire laughs, a kind, soft sound, and Derek stands up, his grin never wavering.

Stiles looks at Talia to see her smiling proudly at Derek from the porch.

He isn’t sure if he should leave, give the two friends time to catch up or if that would be considered offensive. He really needs to talk to Talia, with regards to these werewolf customs.

“So to what do we owe the pleasure?” Derek asks curiously.

“Word has gotten around about your upcoming wedding and the other packs… heard about the predicament.” Claire pauses, her eyes sympathetic. “I am sure I will not be the only one who will visit soon, but I am glad to be the first.” He turns her eyes on Stiles, making it clear he is a part of this conversation too. “Chris wanted to meet you but pack business came up so he send me. He wants to schedule a meeting with you two, to see if an alliance between our three packs will be possible.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at her. This doesn’t make sense. Stiles thought he was Derek’s only option. Why come to Stiles when there are clearly other werewolves willing to offer to help?

Derek sucks in a breath, his mouth agape. “Are you sure?”

Claire smiles proudly. “Yes. It is time we stopped living apart. We were once one pack and Christian feels it is time we returned home.”

To say Stiles is confused is an understatement. In addition to lack of knowledge regarding werewolf customs, it is clear something has occurred that not only shocked Derek but also brings about an aura of pride around him.

“Thank you.” Derek says, stretching out his hand for Claire who takes it firmly.

She turns to smile at Stiles, her hand stretched out for him too.

He grasps it, not saying anything.

To look away from her questioning green eyes, he looks down to Annabeth who has been silently standing by her mother’s side throughout the whole conversation.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Annabeth.” He says kindly.

He can feel eyes on him but he ignores them.

Soon, Claire and Annabeth are walking away after bidding Talia a goodbye. As Stiles watches her and Annabeth walk into the woods, hand in hand, Claire’s words play over and over in his head as he tries to come up with a plausible theory about what had just occurred. Stiles waits until he is sure they are out of hearing range before he turns to look at Derek.

“And that?”

With an amazed smile on his face, Derek turns to look at Stiles. “Christian… He’s going to give up his Alpha status to join our pack.”

The word ‘our’ pack sends a weird sensation throughout his body.

“Is that possible?” Stiles asks shocked. “Can they do that?”

Derek nods, his eyes wide with joy and pride. “Yeah, if they are willing to accept us as their Alphas. If they are there for the wedding…” He turns at smile on Stiles. “Our pack just got a lot bigger.”

 

*

 

“I do not see the point in this, Mom!”

Stiles hears Lydia sigh next to him.

They are all gathered around the dining room, which Stiles now recognizes as the Planning area, given that no one sits here to eat but instead they all gather around the fire place with their plates of food, sitting on any surface, whether it be the floor or the couches.

“Derek, now is not the time for you to be hard-headed.” Talia says with exasperation.

“Wait, there was a time when he wasn’t?” Laura asks, mocking a shocked tone.

Stiles bites his lips to suppress a smile. Malia snorts, loud and proud, not all affected by the glare she gets from Derek. Allison elbows her in ribs and the were-coyote turns around and asks loudly, “What?”

Lydia rolls her eyes in humor, her red lips curled into a smile.

“Mom, you know how that man is. I am not working or siding with Lahey.” Derek says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

“ _Nor_ …” Lydia mutters under her breath.

Stiles and his pack have been given a brief explanation on Alpha David Lahey, the way he rules with an iron fist. He has rules that he expects his pack to follow, those who don’t or aren’t capable are kicked out.

Stiles had asked, angered, why Derek and The Hale’s haven’t done anything about it and Talia had explained that challenging an Alpha like that would have most likely have ended in a fight and they did not have the numbers for that.

“I am aware, Derek. But this is not about working with him.” Talia says.

Derek shakes his head.

“Derek,” A deep voice say and Stiles look over to see Boyd taking a step forward. “We need to know that they will not side with the Hunters. It is not unheard of and Alpha Lahey will do anything to save his own ass. We can’t have Hunters and another werewolf pack on our hands. If we go to them, talk with them and ensure that they will not turn on us, we can be sure of our numbers.”

That is a very well stated point, Stiles muses.

Allison is right, Boyd is the voice of reason. The certainty in his voice makes anything he says sound believable. He has a deep tone that draws everyone’s attention and that in itself is already convincing.

“You know he will take any chance he gets to over throw you, Der.” Erica says next to Boyd. She says the nickname softly, as if to lessen the impact of her words.

Derek sighs, lowering his hands on the edge of the table. He leans on them, his shoulders hunching and then he turns his head to look at Stiles.

“What do you guys think?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows in shock. The other members of the Hale Pack are all looking at him, their eyes expectant.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Stiles says. “Knowing the amount of people that will not side with you is as good as knowing the numbers who do. This Alpha may not side with you but Boyd is correct, knowing he won’t side with the Hunters is second best.”

He sees Lydia, Malia and Allison nod their heads from the corner of his eyes.

Derek hold Stiles eyes, flickering his multi-coloured orbs from left to right before he closes them and sighs.

“Okay, we can go tomorrow. Meet up with them and see if he is willing to listen.”

“Who is we?” Allison asks.

“Stiles and I.” Derek answers and Stiles notes that lack of hostility in his tone. “As future Alphas to this pack, it’s best if we give them a unified front.”

“Yeah,” Cora says. “Wouldn’t want the other werewolves to know you two spend most of your time at each other’s throat.”

Stiles looks over to Cora and smirks cockily. She looks at him and rolls her eyes.

“If so,” Lydia speaks up. “You two need to come up with a plan of attack. To make sure that if the man were to attack you, you can have some form of escape.”

“You thinking backup?” Scott asks. Lydia looks at everyone, a wicked grin on her face. “Something like that.”

 

*

 

Later that night, as Stiles lays in the room the Hale’s have given him, he hears tiny steps, slow and light. He frowns, pulling his arm that lay over his face, covering his eyes, off just as his bedroom door creaks open.

He waits, recognizing her sweet scent as she peaks around the door, her red hair glowing even in the darkened room.

He flashes his eyes, letting her know he is awake.

She shuts the door, and makes her way over to his bed, sitting on it, crossing her legs.

Stiles says nothing, he only looks at her. She swallows, looking down at her hand.

“I got that feeling again.” She says in the dark. Her voice is light and sweet but even without his super hearing he can hear the crack in it.

Sitting up, he grabs her hand, holding onto the gently. She looks up, her green eyes glimmering with tears, fear and paranoia in them.

“When did it start?” He asks.

She swallows thickly. “About a few minutes after the meeting ended. It—I have to warn them, Stiles. What if it’s one of them?”

Stiles shakes his head, letting go of one of her hands to cup her face. He brushes a fallen tear away, giving her a reassuring smile.

“There is no need to wake them up right now. Come morning, we will tell them but for now let them rest.”

“It could be one of them.”

“You would know.” Stiles tells her, knowing her worry is clouding her judgement.

She holds his stare, both of them drawing strength from one another. When she finally finds what she is looking for, she sighs and leans into Stiles’ hand.

“You want to stay here tonight? I know you usually cuddle with Malia when this happens.”

Her worried look dims as she lifts her head from his palm and narrows her eyes at him. “We do not cuddle.”

However, as she says this, she shifts around, getting on her knees to crawls closer to him. He shifts a little to give her room on his bed. She gets under the covers, not moving closer, simply laying down on her side facing him.

“What would you call it then?” He asks, laying down on his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Keeping each other company.” She states. “Besides, we all now out of the four of us, you are the cuddler.”

“I tire my guests out, and they pass out. We do not cuddle, Lydia.”

The smack against his chest doesn’t surprise him.

Stiles let’s out a deep chuckle, keeping his volume down.

“Keep crap like that to yourself.” She mumbles sleepily.

Stiles just hums and turns around, facing away from her. He feels the bed shift and soon Lydia’s body is pressed up against his back, her arm snaked around his waist and she hugs him, burying her face into his back.

“I’m scared, Stiles.” Her voice is muffled against his back.

Stiles takes her hand that is fisting his shirt, and laces their fingers together. “There is no reason to be afraid, love.”

 

*

 

The Hale’s do not take the news lightly.

Talia objects to them going all together, and Cora and Laura back her up. Stiles explains to them that there is no time for fear. That if death were to knock at their door, they have people to protect them.

Derek, with a comforting hand on his mother’s shoulders, tells her he will be fine, guarantee’s that Stiles will look out for him as he will look out for Stiles.

As they make their way on foot to the outskirts of the Hale Territory with Derek leading, Stiles notices how tense he is. His shoulders are ridged, his fists clenched. He keeps glancing around, looking up at the trees as if he waiting for some form of attack.

Somewhere, he knows Scott and Allison are waiting for their call, ready to come and help if an attack were to occur.

“Tell me about David Lahey.” Stiles says, hoping the conversation will bring some kind of easement to Derek.

The Hale Alpha lets out a harsh breath from his nose before he answers. “David Lahey… is a cruel, abusive bastard who oppresses his pack and views anyone that shows even a sign of weakness as pathetic and an insult to the werewolf name.” He spits out.

“Then why is he still in power?”

The glare Derek shoots his way causes Stiles to raise his eye brows at him in a condescending manner. He has been asking this question since he heard the name David Lahey and it bothers him, that The Hale pack has been living here, have known what kind of a monster Lahey is, yet they do nothing.

He understands it. He understands that had they gone up against him, their pack numbers would have been out weight and they would have died but…

Maybe he is being judgemental or maybe it is the Mikaelson in him speaking, but Stiles knows that if something is happening that is wrong, if there is something that needs fixing, he will do just that. _Fix it_.

He will not sit around, living in ignorance. He will go over there, and kill that man.

“We’re not like you, Stiles.” Derek mumbles under his breath.

“Yes, that is becoming very clear.”

Derek stops in his tracks, turning around to regard Stiles. His green eyes are hard, his thick brows pulled together into a tight frown.

“We may not be perfect, okay. But don’t for a second think you are better than us. I know we left them, we let them be but I also know that had you done something about it, there wouldn’t be anyone left alive, so don’t you dare go around judging us.”

Something, a small prick, ignites in his hearts. The feeling, the uncomfortable pain, swells, enveloping him.

He knows it’s the truth, so why does it hurt when Derek says it like that?

Stiles isn’t a cruel person, he knows that… Or at least he thinks he isn’t a cruel person but he knows that some people are just pure evil.

 _Pure evil_ killed his pack.

Why should he allow others that find joy in hurting the people around them to live? They don’t deserve to enjoy life while they take it away from others.

If that makes him a cruel person then Stiles will wear the title with pride.

“I wasn’t judging you.” He says calmly.

Derek rolls his eyes, letting out a disbelieving scoff. The Alpha turns around, walking away from Stiles.

Stiles waits until there is a reasonable distance between them, before he follows after him. They reach a long, ropey, wooden bridge that connects the Hale Territory to the Lahey land.

Derek hesitates only for a beat before he continues on. The wooden planks of the bridge creaks, the unstable structure swinging from side to side as they walk on it. Stiles has a tight grip on the ropes, though he fears he’s most likely to snap it with his hand rather that the weight of his body.

He never liked suspension… The feeling of standing over one single structure with nothing but air waiting for you below. Bex’s thinks he is silly given that there isn’t much that can kill him but Stiles knows why he’s scared of it…

It’s because if he were to fall, there is nothing he can control. All there is, is air and him waiting to hit the ground.

They reach the end and Derek stops, waiting. Stiles comes to stand next to him, looking around, waiting for the other pack to arrive.

Derek explained how werewolves come to the borderline to ‘greet’ their guests.

Then… he catches it. The scent. He looks arounds, breathing in the sweet, coppery air.

“Derek…” Stiles says but does not need to continue. Derek’s head snaps over to him, his eyes wide.

Their feet are racing across the unfamiliar land with Stiles leading. He follows the scent, finding the trail. He gets there in a flash, coming to stand by a tree.

The air is thick, blood coating it, luring Stiles in. But even with the overpowering scent, Stiles can’t think of anything else other than scene before him.

“Oh my God.” Derek says next to him.

The land before them is littered.

Everywhere, the dead bodies of The Lahey Pack lay. Arrows impaled into their bodies, arms and legs bend in awkward, unnatural angles.

Stiles moves, walking further toward the massacre before him. Flies are buzzing around empty vessels and Stiles ignores the cold, lifeless eyes that are staring at him. He steps over a body, clenching his jaw in anger.

He hears Derek behind him, looking around. This... This not an assassination, this is an _annihilation_. These people were not just killed… they were destroyed.

“See if you can find any survivors.” Derek’s voice reaches his ears but Stiles can’t understand him.

_“Run, Mikolaj!”_

_His father. His mother. The man standing over his father’s body._

_“Don’t look back, baby boy.”_

_His mother’s dying screams._

“Stiles!”

The Hybrid snaps his head over to the sound of the hard voice.

He locks eyes with Derek. The Alpha is staring at him with wide incredulous eyes.

“I heard you.” Stiles tells him with an eye roll, hiding the effect the memory had on him.

He feels his gut tighten when Derek gives him one last look before turning around to look for any survivors. He’s scanning the area, no doubt looking for a heartbeat.

Stiles clenches his jaw and walks away, trying to pick up any sign of life.

Some houses here are burned down, blood smeared over doors and walls. The scent of blood, causes his Vampire side to stir within and it makes him sick.

“Anything?” He hears Derek’s voice even if the Alpha is far away.

“No.” Stiles answers, his voice barely above a whisper.

Then, somewhere in the distance, he hears a small scratch. He pauses, looking over to Derek stepping over a makeshift garden, disappearing behind a trailer.

Stiles shakes his head. He is starting to imagine things, all this death and blood is making him uneasy.

He is about to walk away, go in the other direction when he hears it again.

It’s a long, weak scratch. Stiles frowns, tilting his head to the side to try and zone in on the sound.

The more he focuses, the more distinct the scratching becomes and then a small _duh-dum_.

His head snaps over to the left.

His eyes fall on a large house, the only house that stands tall and looks well taken care of.

He looks at the body’s laying near it, looking for any sign of movement, but he finds none.

He wants to walk away, wants to chalk it up to him being paranoid but something inside him causes him to walk towards the house. His steps are loud, pounding against the floor. Any werewolf nearby will hear him, will know there is someone. Survival instincts will kick in and they will make another sound.

A lulling sound fills his hears.

_Duh-dum… Duh-dum… Duh-dum…_

Followed by weak scratching.

He speeds over to the sound, holding onto it. He runs to the house, blurring past it and then he comes to a stop.

The scratching gets louder.

He looks around, finding nothing by empty land and what looks like a door to an underground tunnel.

“Derek, over here.” He says as he wrenches the door open.

He hears the Alpha growl in reply.

The red painted door flings open, falling to the ground with a loud thud.

Stiles stops, frowning at what greets him.

A wooden box.

It looks large enough to hold at least two people, not something a person would keep in an underground tunnel. There is a three wooden step ladder that leads into a small gap, the only space the wooden box does not take up. He takes one step down, the wooden step creaking under his weight.

The sound is louder here.

_Duh-dum! Duh-dum!_

Growling, Stiles grips the lid and rips it off, flinging it across the land and he looks down.

Every cell, every fibre, every bone in his body freezes at what looks back at him.

Big, bright blue eyes. They are wide, terrified and wet with falling tears.

The little boy lets a whimper, scurrying away from Stiles, his legs wiggling, his body trembling.

A pungent smell of urine and faecal matter hits his nose. The breathe gets knocked out of him but he can’t take his eyes off the little boy.

He’s huddled in a small corner, curling into himself. His thin, bony legs are drawn up and pressed against his chest, his face hidden from Stiles. He hears Derek growl behind him and the little boy lets out an anguished sound.

“Stiles!” Derek shouts and the little boy jumps, his entire body jolting at the Alpha’s voice and that small act, breaks Stiles out of his stupor.

“Hey.” He says softly, trying to keep his tone low.

He moves, taking another step down.

“Hey…” He tries again. “My name is Stiles. I’m here to help.”

The little boy slowly lifts his head, his blue eyes peeking out from behind his folded arms, his entire body shaking.

Stiles looks over him, taking in the wet stain in the middle of his pants, the way his fingers are bleeding, tiny wooden splinters imbedded in them.

“Can you tell me you name?” He asks gently.

The boy says nothing, tears building up in his eyes but none fall.

Stiles clenches his jaw as something inside him turns, unleashing pain throughout his body. He can’t stand the image in front of him, the pain in the boy’s eyes, his injured body….

Stiles takes the last step. “It’s okay. You can trust me.”

The boy’s eyes drops and he stares at Stiles’ chest. Stiles follows his eye line and then it clicks.

The boy is listening to his heart beat.

He waits, holding onto his calm stance. His hands are out in front of him for the boy to see. He keeps his eyes on him, opening them, letting the boy see what’s truly hidden beneath his cool persona.

“I-Is-Isaac.” The little boy stutters out, his voice soft as if a third of it was lost in his body.

“Oh my god.” Derek says behind him.

Stiles looks up and over to see the Alpha standing over them, on the ground over.

There is another whimper and Stiles head snaps over to see Isaac curling into himself, his body shaking.

He’s pressing himself tightly against a corner a boy his size should not be able to fit in but somehow he does.

“Derek,” Stile says, looking at the Alpha, his eyes demanding answers.

“Isaac… Lahey.” Derek answers, his eyes disbelieving.

Stiles looks back at the little boy.

Lahey…

_David Lahey… is a cruel, abusive bastard…_

There is this surprising and sudden swell of protectiveness that washes over Stiles. He takes in a deep breathe, cringing immediately when the foul smell hits his nose.

He looks around the box.

Scratches engrave the box from inside. Old and new. Dried blood in the splintered wood. Dark stains on the bottom of the box.

He looks over to the little boy, Isaac…

“Isaac,” He starts softly, and the little boy lets out a small painful sound. Stiles swallow and continues, “I’m here to help you, okay? I can get you out of this box. Would you like that?”

Isaac says nothing, he doesn’t answer. His heart is pounding against his chest and his breathing is harsh.

“Listen to my heart, Isaac.” Stiles coaxes him gently, wanting so badly to take a step closer but he stays where he is. “My name is Stiles and I am here to help. I can get you out of this box.”

He can see the little body tensing up, and Stiles knows he is listening to his heart.

Stiles waits, looking at him.

Slowly, his little head moves, and blue eyes lock with whisky ones once more before dropping instantly.

“You want to get out of here, Isaac? I can take you away from this place.”

Isaac stares at his chest.

Stiles swallow thickly. His eyes start to burn and a thick lump forms in his throat. “All you have to do is take my hand.”

Slowly, he turns his left hand, offering it to Isaac.

Blue eyes flicker to his hand, staring at it.

“If you come with me…” Stiles says, “I promise you, no one will _ever_ hurt you, _ever_ again.”

Stiles slowly lifts his foot, stepping into the box.

Isaac is still staring at his hand.

He takes another step and then he is in front of the little boy. He keeps enough space between them, knowing better than to crowd him.

Blue eyes lock with his.

Stiles stares at him.

Slowly, almost tortuously, Isaac loosens his arm around leg, his little fingers stretched out for Stiles’ hand.

Their fingers brush and Isaac withdraws his hand for a second before slowly reaching out again. When his palm touches Stiles’, the Hybrid curls his fingers slowly around his hand.

“Can you stand up?” Stiles asks gently.

Isaac looks at his hand then back up at him.

He gets his answer from that one look.

Stiles nods, smiling softly, trying to ease away any uncertainty Isaac may have. He knows it is useless, that no amount of smiling will take that feeling away but he does it anyway, remembering Rebekah’s smile and how even if it didn’t take away his pain, it did take away the feeling of being completely alone.

“Isaac… I am going to let go of your hand, all right? And then I will take off my jacket so you can cover yourself and then I will lift you up, all right?”

Isaac stares at his chest. Then his fingers slowly let go of Stiles’ hand.

Stiles moves as slowly as possible. Slipping each arm out of his dark military styled jacket, watching Isaac, to make sure he isn’t scaring him.

He can feel Derek near him but he can’t look at the Alpha right now.

He reaches around Isaac and the boy flinches, squeezing his eyes shut before snapping them open, staring at Stiles chest. His anger is slamming against his walls, wanting to be let loose, to take control but Stiles can’t. Any disturbance, any irregularity in his heart will frighten Isaac.

He slips the jacket around the boy’s shoulders.

“Isaac?” He asks and then boy’s eyes flicker up before looking back down at his chest. “When I pick you up, can you do something for me? Can you squeeze your eyes real tight, do not open them until I tell you to? Can you do that?”

Isaac blinks.

Stiles nods and then he slowly slips his arm under the boy. He can feel his entire body jump at the contact and he pauses for a beat before hooking his arm under Isaac’s knees and around his back. He raises slowly and the boy turns his head, burying it in Stiles chest.

He stinks, reeking of bodily fluids that no child should smell of.

Stiles glares up at Derek who looks ash white.

He takes the three steps, and the sight of the dead body’s greet him. He wants to pull Isaac closer, wants to hold him to his chest, tell him that he is safe, that nothing will happen to him but he does neither.

As they walk away, Stiles can see the shock in Derek’s eyes slowly turn into uncontrollable anger. Isaac’s body shakes in his arms.

“Stop.” Stiles whispers to Derek. “You’re scaring him.”

Derek looks down at the boy in his arms and closes his eyes.

Stiles looks at him, and a second later, Derek opens his eyes and nods to him.

Stiles turns, looking down at Isaac to see his eyes are still shut, his body tight and tense.

The Hybrid can feel the bumps of the little boy’s spine even through his jacket.

Together, Derek and Stiles walk away from the Lahey land, Stiles leading and Derek behind him.

They came here for something and are now walking away with something neither of them had expected.

As Stiles holds Isaac in his arms and walks the little boy away from the hell that was his previous pack, he remember his brothers and sister. He remembers them and that memories builds something within Stiles.

Something he has only ever felt when he is around his girls…

The uncontrollable urge to protect someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by The Fray- You Found Me
> 
> Next update will be next month (Hopefully)


	10. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets up with an old friend and gets some much needed advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So, first off, I just realized something. 
> 
> For the past 10 chapters, I have been spelling Stiles' name wrong and for that I am so so so sorry. I don't know where my mind was but it has been changed, sorry for the inconvenience.

He can’t seem to stop moving.

The Hale house is empty, aside for him and the unconscious boy currently laying on his bed. Stiles shakes his head as he sits on one of the three couches, staring at the empty fire place. He has been moving around since he arrived with Derek and the little boy in his arms.

After a brief and cold recount from Derek, Stiles took the boy to his room. Malia and Allison did the rest, undressing him out of his filthy clothes, and into one of Stiles’ shirt.

That was yesterday.

Little Isaac lost consciousness shorty after they were a few feet away from the Lahey land and he has been asleep since then.

Malia and Allison are understanding, they allow him to stay awake throughout the night, not even Lydia mentions it.

He sits with Isaac, staring at the boy before getting up and then makes his way around the empty house.

The Hale Pack left along with Malia right after Derek told them about the Lahey Pack, to perform a proper sending off.

Stiles doesn’t ask nor does he care about the Lahey Pack. They have been gone all night, with only Scott McCall returning to be with the Mikaelson Pack.

Allison and Scott left this morning to do a proper containment spell, something she revealed to have been working on since Stiles told her about the Hale’s lack of connection with the land which they now call home.

Lydia left shortly after them to go shopping for clothes for Isaac.

And now, Stiles is alone, with nothing but the little werewolf’s heartbeat in his ears, the lulling sound bringing some form of comfort to his troubled soul.

He has spent hours looking over Isaac, taking in his healed body.

He looks unharmed to the naked eye but those petrified blue eyes will forever be embedded in his memory.

Slowly, Stiles makes his way to his room. He peaks in, finding the little boy still sleeping. He walks quietly to his nightstand, snatching his cell and then briskly makes his way back out.

He steps outside, the soft breeze brushing against his skin, ridding it of the burning sensation he has been experiencing due to him being holed up in the Hale house. His eyes fall down at his cell, turning it over in his hand, contemplating if he should make the call.

He presses down Speed dial Number 2 and listens as the cell rings on the other end.

_“Brother, to what to do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”_

“You all should really work on your tone when answering my calls. One would swear you haven’t heard from me in a thousand years.” Stiles retorts, rolling his eyes.

A calming sensation washes over him and Stiles holds onto it. He feels it sinking into his tensed up muscles, feeling it ease the painful knot in his gut.

“ _Well forgive me, I seem to recall you being quiet eager to leave._ ”

“Really, Nik? I thought you would have let this go by now.”

 _“Have you known me to the type of person that simply ‘let’s things go_ ’?”

Stiles clenches his jaw, wondering in the back of his mind why he had called Klaus and not Elijah. But even as he wonders it, he already knows Elijah is not the brother he needs right now. He needs someone who will not reassure him but who will anger him and make him see sense.

“No. The blood you have on your hands is a constant reminder of how revengeful you truly are.” He replies in a cold tone.

He knows it’s a low blow, but something about Klaus brings out this side of him.

There is a beat of silence.

“ _Stiles, if you called to anger me unnecessary about nonsensical things, I will hang up this phone._ ”

He shuts his eyes, bowing his head. “Something has happened.”

“ _Have you taken in another stray?_ ”

Anger spikes within him. And it dies instantaneously. Though Niklaus scoffs and rolls his eyes at the mere mention of his pack, Stiles will never forget the proud gleam in his eyes the day he, Bex’s and Elijah came to him on a Christmas the girls had insisted on three years ago.

“I have found someone,” Stiles says softly. “A boy. His pack has just been killed, though I use that term lightly.”

“ _Get to the point, Stiles_.”

“His father abused him, in more ways than one and now I have a scared little boy to look after and I have no inclination on how to go about this.”

Stiles knows Isaac hits close to home for his brother but neither Elijah nor Bex’s will understand. They do not have the mind set to know just exactly what Isaac is going through.

But Klaus does.

 _“Is the boy’s father still breathing?_ ”

“No,” Stiles answers coldly. “Though it is not due to my hand.”

Klaus pauses on the other side and Stiles can hear a bustling of voices on the other side. Stiles misses that; the lively energy of New Orleans. The culture. The smiling faces of the people residing within.

Those innocent people who live happily, untouched by evil and ignorant of the darkness that lurks in their streets. Until that darkness snuffs out their light.

“ _A few months ago, brother, I would have told you to leave the boy. There is no need for such a burden in your life.” Klaus says, his tone light. “However… I have come to understand that nothing is more important than family_.”

“That boy is not my family, Nik.” Stiles says strongly.

Klaus hums. “ _Neither were we but that does not stop us from being there for you and you us_.”

His heart, this cold beating organ, spikes at Klaus’ words. He feels a small smile pulling on his lips.

“So, you are saying I should let him stay with me? Burden him with Mikaelson name?”

“ _On the contrary, I think you should drop him off at the nearest family. But then again, you will spend your years wondering about him, and then eventually you will give into the temptation like you always do and seek the boy out yourself_.”

“Klaus, you’re not giving me a definitive answer.” Stiles snaps irritated.

He hates it when Klaus speaks like this, saying one thing only to contradict that very thing a second later.

“ _Because I do not see the point. You have already made up your mind and like always, the Mikaelson inside of you always wins._ ”

Stiles sighs sadly, feeling resigned. He looks out in front of him, taking in the long, thin trunk trees, the light rustle in the branches and leaves as the wind ripples through them. The sky, a light blue shade with a few clouds in sight, brings a sense of peace to the view but nothing about this moment is peaceful as the images of the day before flashes through his mind. The bodies.

The blood. The wooden box. The boy. The fear.

“You always told me being a Mikaelson is both a curse and a blessing for we make discussions based on our hearts, regardless of how logical we try to seem.”

“ _Do what you think is best, Stiles. Whatever the consequences, they will be yours to deal with. Just ensure that your decision is worth it_.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Stiles notices. “And I do not mean past experience. What is happening over there? Elijah is being evasive and Elijah is never evasive, that is usually your job.”

“ _Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”_ Klaus says. Gone is the light tone and in its place is a stern voice.

“If it involves my family, it is very much my concern as it is yours.” Stiles forces out through grit teeth.

“ _You will be informed on the matter when we see you again. Until then, steer clear of New Orleans._ ” His brother says, finality set deep in his tone.

“Niklaus!”

He hangs up.

Stiles pulls the phone back, seething at it. Sighing, he turns back and gazes up at the Hale Mansion.

_Whatever the consequences, they will be yours to deal with. Just ensure that your decision is worth it._

 

*

 

The Hale Pack returns sullen, remorse displayed openly on their faces. Talia sets to starting food, Laura offering to help her.

Malia is with them, and her brown eyes are pained, her lips are turned down and her dark arched brows pulled together tightly. She gives Stiles a sad smile before she trudges up the steps. He hears his bedroom door opening and closing.

Out of them all, Malia is the one who has been sitting with Isaac, aside from Stiles, continuously, using any free time she has. She does nothing, only stares at him, as if willing the boy to wake up.

Derek and Cora are not with them and Stiles doesn’t bother to ask. Erica and Jackson make their way up the stairs, and Boyd walks to the kitchen, offering his services to Talia Hale.

Stiles wants to ask what they are doing. He wants to know what their plans are but he knows he will not get an answer, not one that will satisfy him. He is sure the Hale’s are going to sit down, discuss things like they always do, taking time to come up with a formative plan.

Time they could be using to actually do something productive.

A thought suddenly comes to mind and Stiles finds himself walking to his room. He ignores Malia who is sitting by Isaac’s side, his little hand in hers as he pulls out his leather jacket (A gift form Rebekah).

“Where are you going?” Malia asks.

Stiles shrugs it on, walking over to press a kiss on the top of her head. “Daniel.”

She looks up at him, her dark brows knitting together. “Need me?”

He shakes his head. “No, you stay here. Keep an eye on Isaac for me. Tell them when they start asking questions.”

Stiles makes his way down the stairs, heading toward the kitchen. Talia and Laura look up from where they are dicing vegetables, giving him identical frowns.

“I will be heading out. I’m going to see a friend.”

Laura cocks her head to the side. “And this friend is?”

Stiles simply stares at her, before turning to look back at Talia, waiting patiently for her reply. He doesn’t want to get their hopes up as they all seem to going through some form of grieving. On form of loss is worse enough without adding another.

When the Former Alpha nods, giving him a small motherly smile, Stiles turns around and makes his way out of the Hale Mansion, a plan already forming in his head.

 

*

 

The bar is buzzing with chatter as Stiles opens the door, some people turn to look at him, other’s stop and openly stare. He ignores all of them, looking around with a smirk. The bar is small, and lightened up by the few windows on the right and left side. Round tables are scattered around in the place, seemingly at random but Stiles can see the methodically pattern they make; spaced out with enough room to move around, to chatter with your companion without the disturbance of the people at the other tables, however they are still close enough to create a comfortable and familiar feel to anyone stepping in.

When his eyes land on the handsome bartender standing behind the bar, he walks over to him, exuding confidence. His shoes thud softly against the wooden floorboards, drawing more eyes on him.

The bartender is smiling at a woman by the bar, his dimples on full display. The short sleeves of his dark blue plain shirt are snug around his bulging arms and it has the woman flustered, glancing down every now and then, her cheeks red and her eyes lustful.

“… Well I do get off later night at 8.”

Stiles comes up to the bar, bring up his arms to rest his forearms against the clean surface, leaning against it. “Is that so?”

His head snaps over instantly, his deep brown eyes locking on Stiles and widening with shock. His lips part and he lets out a soft breath.

“You know better than to lead a woman on, Danny. Or have you jumped ship?”

The woman, with bright blue eyes and honey blonde hair that is perfectly styled, frowns at them. Stiles can sense her irritation at him, probably because Stiles just interrupted what she presumes to be plans for a night of fun.

“Stiles.” Danny sighs, sending the woman an apologetic glance before he makes his way over to Stiles.

Stiles runs his eyes over Danny, taking in the way his shirt hugs every inch of his body, accenting his broad shoulders and his wide and muscular chest. His hair is longer, standing up in various directions at the front, but it’s still short on the sides as it had been two years ago.

Stiles doesn’t hide his appreciation in his glance and Danny shifts a little under his gaze.

The woman looks between them and even though Stiles isn’t looking at her, the small drop in her posture lets him know she has finally put the pieces together. She turns around in her bar stool and walks away.

“Thanks for that. Now I have to flirt with someone else.” Danny grumbles, placing his hands on the edge of the counter as he leans against it, the cleaning cloth thrown over his shoulder.

“I was merely helping that poor woman.” Stiles smirks.

Danny rolls his eyes. “What did you want? Or did you just come here to waste my time?”

“Ouch.” Stiles places his hand over his heart. “That truly hurts. I thought we were old friends.”

“Yeah, an old friend that nearly got me killed.”

Stiles cocks his head to the side. “I apologized for that.” He runs his eyes over Danny’s body, “Thoroughly.”

Danny scoffs. “That look might have worked back then but it doesn’t anymore. I have out grown your charm."

He turns around, grabbing a glass off the glass shelf, and takes out a bottle of whisky. He pours some in the glass, taking his sweet time. Stiles waits patiently, tapping his fingers against the counter until Danny turns around, placing the glass in front of him.

“You remembered.” Stiles comments as he takes a sip of the bitter golden liquid.

Danny says nothing, only stares at Stiles. He tries to put on a tough act but the small blush in his cheeks and the way he shifts every now and then, tells Stiles he still has the same effect on Danny that he had two years ago.

“I need information.” Stiles says after a while.

“Of course. Why else would you be here?”

His lips curls. “For information…” He drops his eyes momentarily to the glass before glancing up slowly. “Seeing you is pleasurable bonus.”

Danny’s heart spikes. “I don’t have time for your games, Stiles. I have work to do.”

Lifting the glass to his lips, he drowns every last drop, the burning sensation in his throat barely registering. “By all means, continue. I’ll wait.”

With one final look, Danny turns around and walks up to another customer. Stiles watches him work, smirking whenever Danny looks at him. He enjoys Danny’s company, especially the affect he has on him. Though Stiles does flirt with him, Danny had made it clear the last time they crossed paths that Stiles could smirk and charm him with his words until his heart’s desire but Danny was done with him.

He doesn’t feel hurt by it, though it did sting at the time. Danny knowing what’s best for him, is something Stiles is grateful for. He knows when to call quits to a bad situations and back then… Stiles was a dark path he was wise not to take.

Soon, customers leave and slowly the bar empties out until Stiles and Danny are the last remaining.

“What do you want to know?” Danny asks, pouring himself a glass of bourbon and rounds the bar, taking the seat next to Stiles.

Stiles raises his eye brow. “Should you be drinking that?”

“You’re paying for this.” He says with a sarcastic smile.

Stiles chuckles before he sobers up. “Two nights ago, a pack of werewolves were killed. The Lahey Pack.”

Danny nods, taking a sip of his drink. “So?”

Stiles placing his arm on the bar leans forward, his eyes burning into Danny’s and the human holds his stare. “Don’t play dumb, Daniel, it’s not an attractive quality.”

Danny sighs, rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I heard about it. Why do you ask?”

“I need a name.”

The brown eyed bartender shakes his head vehemently, closing his eyes. “No.” He opens them, glaring at Stiles. “Last time I helped you I almost got killed.”

Stiles reaches out, placing a hand on Danny’s forearm. “I assure you nothing will happen to you. Before, the thought of you being a target never crossed my mind. Now, I am aware.”

Danny tenses up under his touch, his eyes flicker to Stiles’ hand. Stiles looks at him, not removing his hand until he feels the man’s forearm relax under his palm. Danny reaches out for his glass, causing Stiles’ hand to slips from his arm.

“It’s just a name, Danny.”

The bartender sighs, “Cole Marcus.”

“Do you know where I can find him?” Stiles asks, pushing his luck.

Danny takes another sip of his drink. “Yes.”

He says nothing more after that, simply standing up, pulling out a small writing pad from his back pocket and scribbles something down on it before tearing the small page. He folds it, handing it over to Stiles. His brown eyes look hesitant but also trustful.

Stiles takes the paper slowly, their fingers brushing up against each other’s. He leans forward, pulling the piece of paper away as he slants his lips over Danny’s. His lips are warm, and Stiles can taste the bourbon on his tongue as it briefly meets his, giving him an attentive stroke.

He pulls away, “Thank you,” And speeds off.

 

*

 

He’s walking slowly toward the warehouse as he feel his phone vibrate in his pocket as it has been doing for the last half hour.

With a heavy sigh, he pulls it out and answers. “What?”

“Where the hell are you?” An angry voice screams into his ear.

Stiles sighs, “Derek… Did Malia not tell you where I was going?”

He looks around the warehouse, taking note of the fresh tire treads, the scent of deodorant and spice.

Someone has been here, _frequently_.

“She told me you went to see a guy named Daniel who, apparently, always gives you intel when needed.”

“Then I do not see the reason as to why you are calling me.”

Derek growls on the other side. “Stiles, what are you planning?”

Stiles clenches his jaw as he hears a small shuffling from within the warehouse. “I am following a lead, to find out who exactly killed the Lahey Pack. I didn’t feel for sitting around idly while you all came up with a plan.”

Derek pauses. “What do you plan to do, Stiles?”

Anger and irritation courses through him, and Stiles turns around slowly, looking away from the warehouse. He grips his cell in his hand, feeling the metal bend slightly under his grip.

“Well, first I will walk into this warehouse, torture a man until he tells me what I wish to hear and then I will return with the name of the person who orchestrated the attack on the Lahey Pack. And if by some unfortunate chance, the name the man gives me leads only to another hunter, I treat that man with the same… _care_.”

“Damnit, Stiles!” Derek barks on the other end. “Do not do this!”

“And why not? These people hardly care about you so why do you continuously defend them?”

“Because it shows that I am better than them! I am not a murderer. But you---“ Derek cuts himself off.

 _Murderer_ …

The word brings about a sick twist within him. He swallows, trying in vain to force the feeling away, to try and hold onto the anger. He allows the dead bodies of the Lahey Pack that laid at his feet to flash through his head.

“I don’t know you, okay?” Derek says on the other side. “But I remember the baby that looked into my eyes. And I remember the goodness I felt in you. I remember thinking that Mikolaj was going to be my best friend. But right now, you are thinking like Stiles Mikaelson.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, ignoring the lump in his throat at Derek’s words. “I seem to recall that being my name.”

Derek sighs. “Not always. Stiles, please, for Isaac, for your pack… Think as Mikolaj _Stilinski_ … As _Stiles Stilinski_.”

 _Stiles Stilinski_ …

After so many years, he has never thought about his birth surname. It ignites a sudden longing within him, something he hasn’t felt since he found a home with the Mikaelson’s. The Mikaelson’s who despite being broken themselves, found it in their souls to take care of him when they didn’t have to.

The lump in his throat eases until it becomes non-existent. Straightening up, Stiles answers Derek in a cold, heartless voice. “Stiles Stilinski died 16 years ago.”

Derek’s breathing stutters.

“Insult my family again, and I will show you what a true Mikaelson can do.”

Stiles hangs up, turning back to look at the warehouse.

 

*

 

The man is terrified.

His body smells of panic induced sweat and gun powder from the weapon clutched in his hands.

Stiles watches with amusement from the shadows as he moves around in circles. His heart pounds against his chest, his arm and neck bleeding from where Stiles had scratched him.

“Who the hell are you?!” The man shouts, his quivering voice echoing through the warehouse.

Stiles speeds out of the shadows, stopping right behind him. “Someone whose temper you do not wish to see.”

Cole whips around, his gun aimed at Stiles. Stiles grabs it, and tosses it away before Cole could so much as blink. He stumbles back, sweat rolling down from his temple.

Stiles smirks, feeling the skin under his eyes move as the dark veins slowly resurface and his eyes starting to pull, as he lets out his Hybrid form.

Cole moves back with terror stricken eyes, stumbling away from him.

“Now,” Stiles starts slowly. “I would like to know who was behind the attack on the Lahey Pack, you should do well to not anger me any further.”

Cole shake his head, his eyes bouncing around. “I don’t – I don’t know!”

His heart blips and Stiles cocks his head to the side, tutting. “Uh-uh-ah. One last chance. Lie to me again and I will rip your heart out with my bare hands.”

Cole, in his panicked state backs himself up against the wall, his eyes widening when he feels the cold bricks dig into his back.

The Hybrid curls his lips, pulling them back to reveal his teeth.

“I-I We only had a name…” Cole stutters.

Stiles stops in front of him, “Tick-tick-tick.”

When Cole freezes, Stiles’ grabs onto his neck, digging his claws slowly into the flesh. He feels the slow motion of the hunter swallowing, he feels his thundering pulse against the tips of his fingers. He leans in closer, his eyes glaring into the hunter’s icy blue orbs that are bloodshot and glistering from fearful tears.

 _Honestly_ , there was a time hunters would have rather died rather than show fear to him.

Cole wheezes. “Ger-Ger—“ He chokes out, “Ger- Gerard- Argent!”

 _Gerard Argent_.

The name unlocks a flood of memories.

_Stiles getting beaten, newly alone and terrified._

_His silent prayer for Elijah and Klaus to find him, to forgive him for walking away_.

_The cold stare and the menacing psychotic laugh from the hunter._

Stiles closes his eyes briefly before slowly opening them, locking them on Cole. “Is that all?” He asks in a low tone.

Cole lets out a whimper, so low that the Hybrid only feels it against his hand but he doesn’t answer Stiles. With the heavy memories having brought those dreary feeling along with it, he forces them away by allowing his anger to gain control.

Slowly, he tightens his hold around Cole’s next, watching with satisfaction as the hunter’s face slowly darkens from ash white to flushed red.

“Yes!” Cole finally chokes out.

Stiles smirks. “Very well. Seems I have no further use for you.”

Cole’s eyes widen, his heart stopping as fear takes full possession. Stiles marvels in it, because to have the power to install fear into those that other’s fear makes him feel _powerful_. He bares his teeth, a growl rumbling out from deep within his chest.

_I am not a murder! But you…._

_For your pack…_

Voices flood his mind. First Derek. Then Elijah, Rebekah and Klaus.

_You are not like us, Stiles. You do not share our horrors and our fears. You are the one Mikaelson who can start afresh._

_Oh, hush! This is Klaus’ mind tricks. Be better than that, Stiles!’_

_Let the anger take over, brother. But make no mistake, only you are to blame for the pain you inflict in the name of it._

He jerks his arm back, and Cole drops to the floor, gasping for air, his face red. Stiles feels his claws retract, the skin under his eyes smoothing out and the tightness in his eyeballs slowly easing.

He takes in a deep breathe, quelling his burning rage. Crouching down, he reaching out and grips onto the front of Cole’s shirt.

The hunter stares at him, tears now clear in his eyes. Cole entire body tenses up as Stiles leans in closer, his human brown eyes boring into those petrified blue orbs.

“I just spared your life. Remember that, next time you decide to hunt my kind again.”

He shoves him back and onto the floor, straightens and marches out of the warehouse. His mind is reeling, screaming at him, asking him _why_?

And Stiles can only see the flashes of his family’s smiles, his past one and his present one, smiling at him.

Then hard pale green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Next chapter will be up next month.


	11. I'll Be Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles returns and things take a sharp turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this late update.
> 
> There is some small hint of Violence in the beginning but nothing big. Someone however does get slapped. (Not saying who)
> 
> Please see end notes for an AN

Stiles reaches for the doorknob of the Hale Mansion, his fingers twitch as if they are telling him not to entire but Stiles forces the uneasiness away and walks in.

The loud voices instantly die down, and every head turns to him.

There is a flash of chocolate brown hair before a pair of arms wrap themselves around his neck. Jasmine invades his senses and Stiles wraps his arms around her. She cups the back of his neck, holding onto him tightly, panting with relief in his ear.

“Shh, I’m all right, Ally.” He says to her, looking over her shoulders to see the other’s all staring at him with shock.

Lydia is clenching her jaw and Malia has her head cocked to one side. Though her expression is neutral, Stiles can see the storm waging in her eyes.

He makes no sound, waiting until Allison loosens her grip on him.

She pulls away, her eyes narrowed and her chin tilted up.

A palm strikes his face. Stiles’ head whips to the side from the force of the slap, the sting in his cheek hurting more than it should. Hearts stutter in shock, gasps leaves lips of some and a growl rings through the entire house.

He slowly turns to look back at her, probing the inner tissue of his burning cheek with his tongue.

“Don’t you ever pull something like that again, do you understand me?” Allison reprimands him, anger and fear darkening her tone.

Stiles takes in a calm breathe and nods, his lips curling into a smile. “Sure, love.”

“Don’t ‘ _love_ ’ me, Stiles! Where the hell have you been?” She asks, her voice rising.

Stiles sighs, pressing his lips tightly together, looking firmly into her eyes. She’s angry but right now she is letting her anger control her actions and if there is one thing Stiles and his pack agreed on many years ago is no matter what, they shall never speak in anger to one another.

Whether that person be deserving of it or not.

Allison swallows, closing her eyes as she takes in a calming breathe. A small burst of tranquillity washes over him and he sees Lydia and Malia’s tense shoulders drop just a bit.

“Where were you?”

Clenching his jaw, Stiles looks over to the green eyed werewolf who spoke, Derek, who is standing by Cora and Laura, his arms crossed firmly over his chest, his sisters’ eyes piercing, their gaze feeling like the tips of a sharp dagger puncturing his skin.

His eyes are burning into Stiles, the judgement and the distrust clear in them.

Stiles thinks back on their conversation and regardless of the fact that the hunter is alive, Derek can still smell the blood on him. He looks at everyone in the room, knowing the were-creatures can smell the blood too.

Before he can open his mouth, something catches his eye. He glances looks down to see the scratches on Lydia’s forearms. His body reacts and Stiles finds himself brushing past Allison and over to the Banshee, taking her arm gently into his hands as he examines the red, angry marks.

“Isaac woke up,” Malia says next to her. “He… didn’t react well and Lydia was with him. She tried to hold him down and he scratched her.”

He looks into her green eyes, searching, but she gives him a small reassuring smile. Stiles returns his eyes on Malia.

“He didn’t hurt me.” She tells him.

Stiles looks over his shoulder and Allison shakes her head.

“Which is why I called.” Derek Hale says, his strong voice pulling Stiles away from his girls.

The Hybrid glares over at Derek, the skin under his eyes moving, dark veins slowly surfacing.

He opens his mouth but a firm hand clasps on his forearm, stopping him. He can feel Lydia’s blunt nails dig into his skin and he uses it as an anchor.

Talia Hale steps forward, placing a hand on her son’s shoulders.

Derek clenches his jaw, returning Stiles’ glare.

“Now is not the time for that.” She says, looking between them. “Let’s deal with our present issues. Stiles, did your lead pan out?”

Talia’s voice seems to calm everyone down. It’s sweet, yet strong. Though Stiles has not known her long, Stiles can imagine her as an Alpha, an honorable and kind leader.

“Yes. I got a name.” He nods and everyone shifts, the tension building in the air. “And I will tell you everything but I would really like to go check on Isaac.”

“Why? The kid’s asleep.” Jackson asks, his blue eyes glaring at Stiles.

“Because, you idiot, he has been unconscious for almost two days and I don’t know about you but werewolves need to eat.”

He can see the collective expression of shock on the Hale Pack’s faces, making it clear none of them even considered it.

Allison walks closer. “I did a small spell, he should still be all right.”

Stiles nods. “I know but with the state that boy was in, he most likely hasn’t eaten for more than two days. I would like to attend to him, make sure he is okay and then I will tell you all I learned.”

Everyone is looking at the Hybrid, regarding him with a level of uncertainty and Stiles wonder if they heard what he said to Derek.

Lydia gives his arm a squeeze and let’s go of him, her small gesture of affection not going unnoticed.

At the mention of Isaac’s health, an expression of shock and self-anger makes itself known on Talia Hale’s face. Her dark eyes flicker, worry swirling and her thin lips press together.

Stiles looks toward her. “I understand neither of you are in the right frame of mind. You are all going through some form of grieving and would like to find out what happened to the Lahey Pack but I could care less about those people,” he lifts a hand as if to ward off any comments. “Make no mistake I sympathize with oppression but those people are dead and do not need my time or my concern. Right now, there is someone that does.”

“Of course, Stiles.”

Surprisingly it’s Laura that speaks up. Her eyes holds compassion and kindness.

Stiles nods to her in gratitude. “Thank you. Allison will wake the boy up immediately. Could you please make him something to drink? Something that he can easily get down. Nothing solid.”

Suddenly, it’s as if everyone in the Hale Pack is now thinking of Isaac.

“A smoothie?” Erica asks.

Her brown eyes are filled with trepidation and she glances every now and then to the stairs.

Stiles nods again. “Yes, that could work.”

Talia and Laura nod to each other and make their way to the kitchen. Erica follows after them, listening a few ingredients that she thinks would work.

Allison makes her way to the stairs and Malia and Lydia follow. Stiles locks eyes with Derek before following after them.

They enter his room and Stiles makes his way to his bed, lowering himself down on the mattress. He reaches out, placing the back of his hand over Isaac’s forehead to check his temperature. He seems normal, if you exclude the fact that he is a werewolf and werewolves usually burn hotter than the average human.

Stiles looks over to Allison who is standing on the other end of his bed.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Talia to finish the smoothie before we wake him up?” Lydia asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “No. It’s best to wake him up and calm him down. He needs to be conscious and fully aware of his surroundings before he drinks anything.”

“Why?” Lydia questions.

“Instincts will take over,” Malia answers her. “If he smells food, he will immediately drink, consuming it fast and most likely more than he can handle. He will end up vomiting the stuff out.”

Lydia nods and Stiles glances at Allison, giving her a firm nod.

She looks down at the boy and takes in a calming breath and then raises her hands, palms down, splaying them over Isaac’s unconscious form. She closes her eyes and starts muttering a small incantation under her breath.

“ _Excitate vos e somono. Excitate vos e somno…_ ” She mutters, repeating the phrase over and over. (Arise from slumber)

Stiles returns his eyes on Isaac, watches as the boy lays still for a moment before his brows starts twitching, his head moving a little. Stiles sits closer, keeping a reasonable distance between them so he doesn’t crowd him but also so that he is close enough should the boy attack.

Allison’s delicate murmuring increases.

Isaac’s body tenses up and his fingers curl inwardly just a fraction before they sprawl out, nails now claws.

Golden irises are revealed and Isaac growls, his canines long and pointed.

His surges up and he takes in everyone around him.

Stiles flashes back to the first time he saw the Mikaelson’s.

Isaac’s growl however high pitched causes Lydia to jump back and Malia’s eyes to flash neon-blue. The moment Isaac sees the blue eyes, he freezes. His eyes flash from gold to blue in a matter of second and his jerks back, curling into himself.

“Isaac…” Stiles asks, in hopes that the boy will remember his voice.

As if answering his prayers, Isaac’s eyes snap over to Stiles and the little boy holds the stare for a short while and for a moment Stiles thinks he has gotten through to the little werewolf before Isaac growls, his heart rate increasing, his stomach groaning along with him.

He makes a move to jump but Stiles is faster and he’s gripping onto Isaac’s thin, bony arms to stop the attack.

“ _Isaac_!” He shouts firmly but the little boy struggles.

He smells of distress and fear and pain. A sharp stench of urine hits Stiles’ nose.

“Isaac, look at me.” Stiles tries again, this time not shouting but his voice remains firm.

The little boy tucks a few times, unsuccessfully trying to break free. He glances up, sweat accumulating on his forehead and Stiles flashes his pale yellow and black Hybrid eyes at him.

The effect is instantaneous.

Isaac freezes but not of fear… of wonder.

They hold eye contact for what seems like a long time, until Isaac’s heart calms down and his arms aren’t fighting against Stiles’ hold.

“There you go…” Stiles says soothingly. He slowly returns his eyes to normal, meeting Isaac’s terrified blue orbs with his own honey brown ones.

“My name is Stiles,” the Hybrid tries again, “do you remember me?”

Isaac hesitates before he nods.

“You remember what I told you?”

The little boy’s head jerks up and down.

“I promise I will not harm you.” Stiles says and then slowly, making sure the boy will not try to attack him again, he loosens his hold on him, uncurling his fingers.

Isaac’s eyes hesitantly leave his and they flicker around the room.

“That is Allison, by the bed, Malia and Lydia. You remember Lydia?”

Isaac stares at Lydia before he whines, terror resurfacing in his eyes. His head snaps over to Stiles and the Hybrid shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay. She’s not angry at you. Right, Lydia?” He keeps his eyes on Isaac as he speaks.

“No, of course not.” Her sweet voice replies.

Stiles smiles at him. “See?”

Isaac glances over to the Banshee once more and his eyes flicker down to her chest. He stares at it for a beat before his slightly tensed shoulders relax once more.

The little boy returns his eyes to Stiles.

“What do you say we get you out of these clothes? That okay?”

Isaac looks down at Stiles’ soiled shirt that is wearing and shame washes over him. His fingers curl into his palms and his curls shake just a bit as he nods.

“Do you want to walk or should I pick you up?”

Isaac looks up at him and Stiles nods in understanding. As he lifts the boy up, he locks eyes with Malia who nods to him, moving to stand next to Allison as they work on removing his sheets. Lydia walks to one of the six bags and pulls out clean clothes.

Stiles enters the bathroom with Isaac in his arms and gently eases the boy onto the toilet seat.

“How about a small bath? Get you all cleaned up?” He asks, the urine smell now becoming more prominent, as is the damp smell of Isaac’ hair.

The little boy glances to the bathtub, staring at it for a beat before he nods and Stiles gets to work. He fills the tub with a little water, making it luke-warm, asking Isaac when he should stop. He undresses the little boy and asks Isaac if he will be able to wash himself, to which he nods.

Stiles steps out for a bit, to see Lydia and Malia pulling fresh sheets over his mattress that doesn’t smell like urine at all.

He glances at Allison who shrugs casually. “I know but this called for using magic on mundane tasks.”

Stiles wants to frown at her but her innocent and caring eyes makes it hard for him to stay mad at her.

“Thank you.” He says to all three of them. “And I am sorry for walking out like that. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Like before?”

“Okay, fine, I promise to give you three a thorough itinerary of my plan next time.”

Allison tilts her head to the side. “Not just us, Stiles.”

Her eyes bore into his, as if she were a disapproving older sister and to an outsider she physically looks older than him regardless if Stiles is a year older than her.

He sighs and nods to her, conceding.

“What did you find out anyway?” Malia asks.

Stiles tenses up for a second, forcing himself not to look over to Allison. “I would prefer it if we discussed it with the Hale Pack.” Who he is sure is listening in…

Though his message is verbally clear, his lifts his hand, pressing his fist to his heart and lifts a finger to his lips.

The girls frown at him but a small whine from the bathroom takes the attention away from the subject at hand.

Lydia steps forward and hands him Superman PJ’s.

He gives her a smirk before he makes his way back into the bathroom to find Isaac sitting there in filthy water.

He takes out a towel from the cabinet and lifts it up for Isaac. He purposefully looks away as Isaac stands and Stiles wraps the towel around him.

He lifts the boy out of the water and drains the tub.

He helps Isaac dry off his body and hair, work swiftly and gently, allowing the little werewolf to take the towel when required and finish the task. A woodland scent reaches his nose and there is knock on his door.

Isaac tenses under his hand and Stiles gives him a reassuring look. “It’s okay. It’s just Derek.”

Isaac waits, looking at the bathroom door.

“Here.” He hears Derek’s slightly deep voice say. “There’s more if any of you would like some.”

“Thanks.” Lydia replies.

“Is he okay?”

“He will be.”

The door closes and when Derek’s footstep fades, Isaac relaxes under his touch. The slight trembling of his body, drives Derek out of his mind. “Need help getting dressed?”

Isaac turns to look back at Stiles, locking eyes for a moment to shake his head before he looks away.

“Hey,” says Stiles, ducking his head to meet Isaac’s eyes. “You can look directly at me, all right? Nothing will happen to you if you do.”

Isaac says nothing to that.

Stiles sighs. “I’ll let you get dressed but I will be right outside, okay?”

He waits for the little werewolf to nod before he stands up and walks out to join the girls.

“Strawberry and Banana smoothie.” Malia says with a grin. “Derek says there’s more.”

Stiles grins and shakes his head. “Patience, ‘Lia.”

The door behind them creaks open and Stiles turns around slowly to see Isaac standing there, his body hidden behind the bathroom door from the neck down, revealing only his head.

“Hey,” Stiles greets with a small smile.

Isaac eyes the three women with him, looking from Allison to Malia to Lydia. Stiles leaves him to it, letting him make his own assessment of the situation.

Though Stiles has helped him when he had been in distress, Isaac is a born werewolf who, notwithstanding his abusive past, relies on his instincts just like any other werewolf…

Just like him…

“We got you something.” Lydia says behind Stiles.

She steps closer, her green eyes kind.

The genius may be logical to a fault, allowing her mind to govern her actions rather than her emotions, Stiles has caught a glimmer of that motherly, sisterly affection at appropriate times. She usually uses it on him, Malia and Allison but in those rare moments when they shop together, he has seen her smile at little kids who stare at her in wonder, a particular form of longing in her eyes that neither ever acknowledges.

Isaac eyes Lydia and glances up at Stiles for a brief moment before he looks at her again.

Stiles is pleased to note, he’s holding eye contact a little longer than before.

“It’s a smoothie. We know you haven’t eaten and we thought this might help.” She says, moving closer to him.

The blue eyed little werewolf looks up at her, his eyes wide and cautious.

As Lydia bypasses Stiles and lowers herself down to Isaac’s eye-level, she smiles. Stiles watches with pride as Isaac flickers his eyes to and fro Lydia’s before he looks down at the plastic cup.

He reaches out slowly, his eyes locking with Stiles once more before his little fingers curl around the cylindrical container.

He lifts the glass and sniffs it.

Allison smiles at Stiles, her eyes displaying pure affection.

“Try it.” Lydia encourages.

The cup raises slowly to his mouth, and the drink covers his top lip. Blue eyes pop open and he draws the cup back, leaving white line over his top lip.

“You like?” Allison asks.

Isaac looks over to her and shyly nods.

He waits a bit, looking at them all before he takes another small sip.

 _That_ form of hesitation makes Stiles wonder. It doesn’t sit well with him, the way the little boy seems to seek approval before drinking the smoothie.

When almost half the cup is gone, Stiles notices Isaac’s eyes starting to droop, yet the little boy keeps drinking. His fingers curling tightly around the cup, the tips of his fingers almost translucent.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Stiles says.

Isaac’s head snaps over, his entire body freezing. The cup drops from his mouth, and he draws it close to his chest protectively.

Stiles shuts his eyes, internally berating himself for speaking so abruptly. When he opens his eyes, Isaac is still looking at him with fear.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Isaac’s brows twitch as if to form a frown but they smooth out a second later. He glances toward the bed and then back down to the smoothie.

“You can drink in bed.” Allison assures him.

Lydia straightens up and Isaac slowly makes his way to the bed. They all watch as he eyes Malia for a second before placing the cup on the bedside cabin and gets in.

He doesn’t seem to mind all the eyes on him and Stiles suspects it has to do with the fact that, even though he had been unconscious, Stiles’ pack had been with him most of the time, so it’s natural that his wolf would feel at ease around them.

The moment, however, that his head hit’s Stiles pillow, his eyelids drop one last time and they do not open again.

“You guys can go wait downstairs, if you’d like.” Stiles says to them. Though as he says the words, he presses a fist over his heart. The girls all exchange glances and nods.

Allison cocks her eyebrow at him and Stiles, lifting his index finger to his lips, nods.

She closes her eyes and mutters an incantation under her breath. When she opens her eyes, they are hard and serious.

“We have thirty second before they realize I’ve placed a sound barrier around us.”

Stiles nods, glancing down at a sleeping Isaac who remains oblivious to the tension around him.

He looks up and meets his pack’s imploring stares.

“All right. As you three know I went to Danny, and I got a name on who gave the order to kill the… them.”

Allison and Lydia inch forward and Malia cocks her head to the side.

Stiles, with sympathetic brown eyes, looks at Allison. “Gerard Argent.”

Though the news causes her to stop breathing, Allison’s hard eyes remains frozen on the Hybrid, unaffected.

“There is no way they are going to let that go.” Lydia says.

Stiles nods. “I am aware but I have made it perfectly clear to them that they either accept of all us or none of us.”

His eyes fall upon Allison once more. The ex-hunter shakes her head. “No… Stiles do not let me stand in the way—“

“You’re not.” He cuts her off firmly. “You are my family and if they don’t accept you, regardless of your name, then they do not deserve my help.”

Her eyes glimmer with unseen tears and she gives him a shaky nod.

“All right then.” He nods to Allison. “Drop it.”

 

*

 

“All right, now I know you are all waiting on the name but I’d prefer to tell you exactly how I got that information. That way, all the questions can be answered without there having to be any interruptions.”

They are all seated in the Planning Room. The Mikaelson Pack on one side and the Hale Pack on the other, with Talia seated at the head. Derek is still glaring at Stiles and Stiles tries to ignore the uneasy feeling it stirs within him.

“Go ahead.” Derek states coldly.

Stiles nods and does a small recount of the events leading up to learning about Argent, “I went to visit someone close to me whom I trust. He had heard around about a few hunters planning to go after the Lahey Pack. I got a name, a man named Marcus Cole. He lived in an abandoned warehouse near Holders Street. It’s there that I learned the name of the man who orchestrated the attack.”

“And Cole? What did you do to his body?” Derek interrogates him.

Stiles can sense the shift in the atmosphere.

The two Alphas lock eyes, each daring the other to back down but neither have any desire to give in. Derek’s eyes drill into his, a clear sign that he does not plan on hiding what Stiles did to Cole.

“I left him where, and how, I found him.” Stiles answers. “Alive and breathing.”

The Hale Alpha’s brows twitch, his cold demeanor dropping a fraction as confusion takes its place. A sudden feeling of pride washes over him but it’s gone before he can question it.

Stiles looks away from Derek, leaving the Alpha to his thoughts.

“So who was it?” Scott asks, his voice eager.

Flickering his eyes briefly to Allison, Stiles sighs, “His name is Gerard Argent.”

As expected, every single eye locks on Allison who remains poised and calm. She does nothing to betray the shame Stiles had seen earlier and that level of control causes his lips to tug up just a bit.

“Argent?” Derek’s deep voice draws everyone’s eyes to him.

Derek Hale looks at Allison for a beat, his eyes holding various emotions, all of them fighting for control.

The Alpha shakes his head for a second and with a deep inhalation through his nose, he regards Allison with stern eyes. “Is there anything you can tell us about him?”

The questions stumps everyone in the room. Stiles doesn’t hide his surprise as he feels his lips part in shock. He had expected something, an angry outburst but he had not planned for Derek to calmly question Allison.

Scott, sitting opposite the Witch gives her a small, comforting smile which she returns with a subtle nod before she redirects her attention to Derek.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I lost contact with them years ago, and growing up, Gerard didn’t visit me much.”

Derek stares at her for a beat, clearly trying to look for any hint of deceit. “Is there a chance your father might be working with him?”

Allison, with a pained expression, nods. “Yes.”

Lydia and Malia who are sitting on both sides of Allison shift toward their sister, their arms moving as they clasp her hands. No one in the Hale Pack seems to notice the exchange.

Erica turns to look at Derek for second and then at Stiles.

“What?” Stiles asks, noting the way she is biting her lower lip, a habit she has when she is eager to ask something but isn’t sure if she should.

She glances at Derek and when he nods, she locks her wild brown eyes with his. “Why didn’t you kill him? I don’t meant to sound like a bitch but you kinda went postal on those hunters so why did you let this one live when you could have easily killed him.”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too.” Cora interjects, raising her eyebrows at Stiles. “What happened to ripping their hearts out of their chest? Or were you just being dramatic.”

Stiles smirks at her.

Cora Hale, as infuriating as she is, has a form of wit that Stiles can’t help but find amusing. She reminds Stiles a little of Bex’s when she is dealing with Elijah and Klaus. Snarky and sarcastic and in a manner that only a true bitch can perfect.

“Would you rather I had killed him?” Stiles asks her.

She shrugs and rolls her eyes. “Why bother asking? You’re gonna do whatever the hell you want anyway.”

There is a sharp scuffle and Cora winces just a bit, turning to glare at Laura who grins at her.

Stiles shakes his head, returning his head to Erica. “I didn’t kill him,” he starts, briefly locking eyes with those hard green orbs. “I didn’t see the point. Killing is a means to an end. I merely gave him a message that would be more clearly understood with him breathing.”

Erica sinks back onto her seat.

“So what now?” Jackson asks, bringing the topic back to their present circumstance. “We have a name but we have no idea what he plans do next. We have an Argent who knows nothing that could help us—"

“Not necessarily.” Lydia speaks up for the first time.

“What do you mean ‘not necessarily’?" Scott asks.

“Well, I mean that while we all have our strengths, Allison was a hunter once upon a time. And if there is anyone who knows how to think like one… It’s her.” Lydia turns to Allison.

The Witch’s lips tug up into a small smile at that.

“So can you?” Derek asks, and like before he draws the attention of everyone to him. “Can you help us figure what he plans do next?”

Allison looks at Stiles.

They both remember a time when he was a Vampire/Werewolf Hybrid and she was a hunter turned Witch. They have come a long way since then. Both Stiles and Allison had to alter their views of the world drastically for them to even begin to consider forming an alliance.

“Yeah.” She nods, looking at Derek. “I will need to work with Lydia, come up with various scenarios. I can call some people to find out more information, but I think we can come up with plausible events that could shed light on why they attacked the Lahey Pack, though there is one obvious reason.”

“Which is?” Jackson asks, cocking his eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. “Cut of manpower. The less people that are willing to align with you, the less people will be on your side.”

“But why the Lahey Pack?” Malia asks. “They seem more like friends not enemies to Hunters. If we ignored the whole werewolf and hunter thing. They had to have known Derek wouldn’t side with them unless he had to.”

“I know, like I said that was the _obvious_ reason.”

Stiles looks at everyone, surveying the way they all ask questions back and forth. Different members have different answers and different points of view but regardless of their difference they are all working together and suddenly for the first time since they arrived here, Stiles can see the Mikaelson and Hale Pack becoming one.

“… Okay and about the kid? Where does he fit in all this?"

At the mention of Isaac, Stiles tenses up. He looks over to Jackson who had posed the question.

“I mean, we are in the middle of what could turn out to be a bloody war and now we have a kid to look out for.” He continues, “what are we gonna do with him?”

“He stays.”

Everyone turns to look at Stiles, including Lydia, Malia and Allison, in shock. He hasn’t spoken to them yet but after his phone call with Klaus, after weighing his options, he finds that there is no choice to make.

“Stiles, I don’t think that’s wise.” Allison says to him cautiously.

She knows she should tread lightly, as everyone in his pack does whenever there is a child involved.

“He can’t stay here, you know that.”

It’s Derek that spoke.

Stiles turns to look at the Alpha who has his arms on the table, his fingers laced together as he stared at Stiles. There is sympathy and guilt glowing in his eyes and everything in Stiles is urging him to lock onto that guilt. To tell Derek and the Hale’s that they have no say in what’s best for Isaac, given that they had the power to end the boy’s suffer and chose to do nothing.

“Look, I’ve thought it through—“

“Have you?” Derek cuts him off. “We are fighting against Hunters who killed his pack. You really think we should involve him in more bloodshed?”

Stiles clenches his jaw in frustration. “Those people came after his pack. He is the son of the Alpha of that pack. Do you really think they won’t come after him? If those Hunter’s find out his alive, they will hunt him down. The Lahey Bloodline lives on through him.”

“Then we will place him in a pack that can protect him.” Derek insists. “We can’t worry about a child right now!”

“Derek—“ Talia’s voice warns him but Stiles speaks over her.

His voice is cold and hard as he says, “Wow.” He looks at Derek, with undisguised disgust. “Is that the kind of pack you want to lead? Our problem is our problem? If it doesn’t affect us, it’s not our business.”

Laura and Cora growl at him and Stiles turns his icy glare on them.

“That is _not_ what I am saying.” Derek stresses.

Stiles glares at him, their eyes burning into one another.

“We already caused Isaac pain by doing nothing about his father. I don’t want his death on our hands because we didn’t keep him safe and far away from us.” Derek continues to say.

A twinge of guilt pricks at his heart and Stiles lessens the severity behind his stare. The Hale Pack looks down at the mention of their lack of action regarding the Lahey Pack, and Stiles can smell the sour scent of shame coming off them.

“I think he should stay.” A deep voice says.

Derek frowns and looks over Boyd, who calmly stares at everyone.

“What?” Derek asks his Beta.

Boyd meets his Alpha’s stare level-headedly. “We may have hurt the boy but as Stiles said, they could come after him. We can protect him and…” A flicker of understanding disrupts his calm facade. “We all know what it’s like to not have a home until we met you, and Isaac has no idea what a true pack is like. We can give him that kind of pack.”

Stiles frowns at Boyd, taking note of the way Jackson and Erica shift just a bit.

Derek stares at Boyd for a second before he looks at his mother.

Talia Hale shakes her head. “This is your pack. It’s your choice. Both of yours.” She locks eyes with both Derek and Stiles, causing the two Alpha’s to lock eyes themselves.

_Both of yours…_

Stiles steals a glances as the two separate sides of the table. On one side there is Derek’s pack and on the other Stiles’ and as The Hybrid watches them all stare intently at them both, Stiles comes to the realization that Talia is right.

He can no longer think of the pack as Derek’s and his, because soon, there won’t be two packs.

_Our pack just got bigger…_

“We can protect him.” Stiles says firmly. Derek sighs, his jaws flexing as he looks at Stiles. Then his eyes dance over everyone, looking at them in the same light as Stiles is.

The Alpha turns him. “All right. The boy stays.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So, the reason this chapter was late is because I have been losing focus on this particular story, which is why sadly, I won't be updating next month.
> 
> I am unsure when I will update next but rest assure, I am not done with this story at all.
> 
> Lots of love. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it...


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